30 Day OTP Challenge (NSFW-version)
by jamesgatz1925
Summary: Writing out of writer's block. This IS the nsfw version, so it is rated M. Some contain just nudity or just kissing.
1. Day 1: Cuddles (naked)

**_A/N: Hello! I'm writing this story just to keep my mind active while writing my other story (Meant to Be). Hope you enjoy! Please review!_**

* * *

**Day 1: Cuddles (naked)**

* * *

The case was long and hard. Sherlock barely makes it up to the flat before he falls asleep, an entire week of on-the-go catching up to him.

Once in the flat, he toes off his shoes and kicks them across the room.

"One day," John tells him. "You're going to lose those. Or kick 'em out the window."

"Window's closed," Sherlock mumbles.

John just shakes his head and moves on. "Tea?"

"Hmm," is all Sherlock can muster. He heads straight for the sofa while John goes to the kitchen.

John hums while he works on the tea, and it's very soothing. It's like a rainforest machine some troubled sleepers own; Sherlock never has trouble falling asleep to John's voice. One evening, John was even arguing with Harry and Sherlock dozed on peacefully on his lap.

Now is no different. Sherlock falls face first onto the sofa and instantly falls sleep.

* * *

John finishes with the tea, not noticing that Sherlock is silent the entire time. Sometimes, after a case, Sherlock retells every detail, or tries to get John into bed, or falls asleep instantly. John assumes it's the last of the three, and his assumption is proven true when he takes the mugs to the sitting room.

Sherlock's face down on the sofa with the blanket wrapped around him. His nose is digging into the pillow, and John wonders not for the first time if he can breathe. But Sherlock hasn't suffocated himself yet, so John leaves him.

John's about to take Sherlock's tea back to the kitchen, where he plans to quietly sip his while making a late dinner, when Sherlock stops him.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock softly asks.

John nearly jumps. "Jes—Sherlock, you scared me."

"Sorry," Sherlock mutters. "Come here. Lay with me."

"Let's go to bed then, love. We'll wake up in a bit and order takeaway."

"We won't get up if we go all the way to bed," Sherlock argues. He turns his body and presses tightly against the back of the sofa, then pulls the blanket up to let John under.

John's jaw nearly falls to the floor. He thinks momentarily that he really should be used to this sight, that he's seen Sherlock naked millions of times over the past two years, but honestly the sight of that milk perfect skin caging in the more-toned-than-it-seems muscles never gets old.

"Well?" Sherlock asks. He's not being seductive, not at the slightest. He's trying to get comfortable enough for sleep.

Doesn't stop John from yanking his clothes off as fast as possible.

Sherlock smiles as John climbs onto the sofa and presses tightly against him. They would be pressed together any time, even in bed, but the fact that they _have _to be for John to remain safely on the sofa is just…exciting.

John adjusts the blanket around them and tucks Sherlock in better. "Good?"

Sherlock practically purrs and closes his eyes. "Perfect."

John wraps his arms around Sherlock and tucks Sherlock's head under his chin. "Nap then, love. I'll wake you for dinner."

"I want to stay here all night."

John nuzzles his nose in Sherlock's hair. "Me too, love."

Sherlock snuggles deeper into John's arms and falls asleep just as quickly as he had before. This time, he doesn't wake up for three hours, and John cuddles him closely the whole time.


	2. Day 2: Kissing (naked)

**Day 2: Kissing (naked)**

* * *

The shower sounds loudly through the bathroom, but not loud enough to drown out a side conversation.

"We need more shampoo!" Sherlock calls over the spray. "The good kind, please? I'm tired of having fluffy hair."

John spits in the sink and replies, "Maybe you could go to the shop today? I won't get off work until six and I don't want to have to worry about getting your shampoo."

The shower also isn't loud enough to cover Sherlock's sigh.

John puts his toothbrush up and silently steps over to the shower. He yanks the curtain back and Sherlock jumps. John laughs.

"And if you're going to the shop," John adds. "Pick up something I can make for dinner. Something that isn't chocolate or ice cream."

Sherlock smirks. "No promises."

John chuckles. "And get razors, please."

Sherlock grabs the soap and begins to wash his body. "I don't know why you're adding to the list. It's not like I'm actually going to go."

John rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

He turns to walk away, but Sherlock stops him.

Sherlock leans forward and softly presses his lips to John's, puckering his lips enough to let John actually feel his lips there. He pulls away and John smiles.

"Get in," Sherlock tries in a seductive, deep voice.

John bites his lip. "I already took a shower, and I'm going to be late."

Sherlock just smiles and kisses John again. He puts the soap on the rack again and cradles John's head with his hands. He deepens their kiss, gently grazing John's tongue with his own. He even moans into John's mouth, trying to entice John more.

John pulls away slightly. "Sherlock…"

"You're already naked and you're getting wet," Sherlock argues. "Just step in."

John tries to pull away. "I can't, I need to—"

Sherlock cuts him off by kissing him again. He pulls John in rougher, swirling his tongue around John's and biting at John's lip.

John grunts from the back of his throat and places his hands on Sherlock's slippery hips.

Sherlock moves one hand to the back of John's head, pulling him in impossibly closer, then reaches down and palms John's sack with a wet hand.

John grunts again, louder, and finally steps into the shower. He shoves the curtain closed and presses tightly against Sherlock.

The kisses don't stop, they don't bother pausing for breath. Sherlock's tongue practically tickles John's tonsils as he plunders John's mouth.

Finally, Sherlock strokes John's cock quickly while sucking on John's tongue, and John comes all over Sherlock's stomach. John moans as loud as he can, and Sherlock moans with him.

They finally part, panting as their breathing returns to normal.

They get out of the shower and John checks his watch.

"Why do you do this to me?" he asks as Sherlock rubs the towel against his hair and lets his erection bob freely. He watches it, almost mesmerized. "Why do you…" John licks his lips. "…your tongue."

Sherlock grins, though John doesn't see it. "If you are already late to work," he says, "Why don't you stop your gazing and do something about it."

John blinks up to his face. He checks his watch one more time, calculates that he really does have half an hour before he needs to be there (his paperwork isn't this important), then attacks Sherlock. He kisses Sherlock deeply and pulls him out of the bathroom, pushes him to the bedroom, then onto the bed.

All while their lips never part.


	3. Day 3: First Time

**Day 3: First Time**

* * *

John lies back on the bed and spreads his legs, letting Sherlock rest between and lay over him. Sherlock kisses him deeply, stroking his hands up and down John's still-clothed body.

"Did you bring the lube?" John whispers between kisses.

Sherlock reaches over and takes it off the bedside table; John sucks bruising kisses onto his long neck.

"I'm so ready, Sherlock," John whispers. Sherlock kisses him again. "I need you…"

"John," Sherlock moans, grounding his hips down. John feels his grown erection through two pairs of jeans.

"Come on," John begs. "Get me undressed."

Sherlock does as told, pulling the shirt from John's jeans. John reaches for the buttons on Sherlock's shirt. Nothing is said then, all that's heard through the room is sloppy kisses and clothes falling off skin. Sherlock licks at John's neck as soon as John's jumper and shirt are gone; John licks at and moans in Sherlock's ear as he undoes Sherlock's jeans.

Finally, they're both completely nude, and Sherlock is thrusting lightly on top of John.

He kisses John's neck. "I've seen you naked a dozen times by now, John," Sherlock mutters. "But each time is like something new. I'm addicted, John." He kisses his way over to John's shoulder, paying close attention to John's scar, just as he always does. He tongues the dips and curves of the scar.

"Maybe 'addicted' isn't quite the word I'd like you describe how you feel about me."

Sherlock's head snaps back to John's face. "Why not?" Sherlock breathes against John's cheek.

"Addicted is how you feel towards your cigarettes. And I've seen you after I've hidden your cigarettes. It's not the fate I'd like for myself."

"Then don't 'hide' from me," Sherlock simply states. He smacks a quick kiss to John's lips, then sits back on his heels.

John can't help but smile at Sherlock's words. Sherlock's never said 'I love you', even though John's said it many times already.

John nudges Sherlock with the heel of his foot. "Stop talking and do me already."

Sherlock just grins, then squirts the lube onto his fingers.

Even though they've done this much already, Sherlock is as careful as he always is in preparing John. He gently pushes his fingers in, stretching John instead of wanting to pleasure John. Honestly, he tries his best _not _to pleasure John, for making John orgasm before he can get his cock in would be disastrous.

"God, Sherlock," John cries seconds after Sherlock's added a third finger. "I'm ready, come on."

Sherlock twists his wrist, making sure John is stretched. "Alright," he mutters, then pulls his fingers out.

John grabs the lube and sits up a bit, pouring some onto his hand. He rubs the lube onto Sherlock, and huffs when he feels how hard Sherlock is. "Ready, love?"

Sherlock bites his lip and nods, unable to tear his eyes away from John's hand on him.

John pulls away first, falling back onto the bed. He lifts his legs higher, giving Sherlock better access to his hole, and Sherlock falls over him.

John takes a long, deep breath, and Sherlock pushes the head of his cock in. They both shutter at the initial breaching, both relishing in _this _feeling alone.

"Come on," John whispers in Sherlock's ear. He places a hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and one on Sherlock's back. He scratches Sherlock's skin, and Sherlock can't help but push forward.

Finally, Sherlock is completely surrounded by John's body. It feels right; it feels like it's where he's belonged this whole time, connected to John like this. Before, he hadn't put too much thought into being the first man John's had sex with, but now he's flooded with the emotion of being the only person to ever be close to John like this.

"God, Sherlock," John moans, snapping Sherlock out of it. "That's good, baby. Come on…"

Sherlock bites back a groan when he only slightly cants his hips up, meaning to just adjust his upper body. He places one arm by John's head, and grabs John's hip with the other hand. He pulls and John lifts his hips more, meeting Sherlock's first thrust.

"_God_!" John yelps in pleasure, his head falling back. "Fuck, that's good."

Sherlock pants against John's face, the intense heat around his cock almost overwhelming. It's both too much and not enough, because when he thrusts again, he can't stop.

John locks his legs tight around Sherlock's hips and Sherlock shallowly, yet firmly, thrusts his cock in and out of John. John tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, to focus on the completely blissful look on Sherlock's face, but when Sherlock's cock firmly rubs against his prostate, he's knocked back with sensation. His eyes screw shut and he shouts in Sherlock's ear.

"John…" Sherlock moans. "Oh, _John_…I'm going to—"

"Touch my…" John scratches Sherlock's back. "Touch my cock…"

Sherlock does as told, reaching between them and wrapping a hand around John's throbbing erection. He spreads the precome up and down John's cock and strokes in time with his thrusts.

"Harder, Sherlock," John cries, his toes curling. "Harder, baby…"

Sherlock spreads his legs slightly, his knees pressing firmly into the bed. His whole body sets on fire as this position allows him to thrust harder. The headboard slaps against the wall, the sound just adding to his senses.

"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock, I'm—"

Sherlock moans impossibly louder than John does as John's orgasm takes him. He pulses in Sherlock's hand and pulses around Sherlock's cock, the tight heat of it sending Sherlock over the edge. He rides out his orgasm, biting John's scarred shoulder and scratching John's thigh.

John's legs fall to the bed and Sherlock relaxes on top of him. His weight is welcome, and John never wants to move.

Sherlock spreads messy kisses along John's jaw and cheek. "I love you, John. You're amazing."

John's arms tighten around Sherlock's neck and he rubs his cheek against Sherlock's sweaty hair. "I love you too, Sherlock."


	4. Day 4: Masturbation

**Day 4: Masturbation**

* * *

"Please, John?" Sherlock begs, not for the first time.

He's been at it for fifteen minutes. But John's on a mission: dinner before sex.

"I'm not having sex with you before dinner," John says, for the third time. "You haven't eaten today."

"I've been too busy," Sherlock replies.

"With? You haven't left the flat at all. You're still in your dressing gown!"

Sherlock shifts in his seat at the table, letting the fabric fall off one bare shoulder. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, John," he claims. "I waited all day for you to come home and—"

"Whatever you're going to say, save it for after dinner."

Sherlock pouts.

"Stop it," John says.

"I've been wound up all day, John. I've suppressed four erections today."

John takes a deep breath, starting the water on to boil.

"If you're not going to do anything about the current one," Sherlock says, "I'm going to do it myself and you won't get a chance with me at all tonight."

John turns around to face Sherlock and crosses his arms. "As long as you eat, I'll be happy."

Sherlock pierces him with an intent gaze, smirking as he unties his gown and lets it fall to the back of the chair. He pulls his arms free and spreads his legs, his current erection begging for John's attention.

John licks his lips. He can't help it.

"Come on, John," Sherlock begs again. "Please…"

John shakes his head.

"Fine," Sherlock mutters, sliding one hand around his cock and stroking it. He groans and throws his head back, the relief he'd needed all day finally catching up.

Sherlock shifts to slouch more in the chair, letting one arm dangle over the back of the chair. He licks the palm of the hand he's wanking with and relocates it to between his legs.

John watches intently, trying not to give in to Sherlock. He quickly turns his back to add the noodles to the water.

When he turns back to Sherlock, Sherlock's head is thrown back again and Sherlock is barely thrusting into his fist. His erection easily slides in his hand, and John wants it to thrust into his mouth.

"Oh, John…" Sherlock moans. "I'm so hard, hard for _you_."

John pulls at the collar of his shirt, the temperature in the room rising many degrees.

"John, _John_…" Sherlock groans. "Fuck me, John…pin me down and put your cock in me…"

John squeezes his eyes shut, fighting off squeezing another part of his body.

John opens his eyes again to see Sherlock pinching and rolling his balls with his free hand. John can't help but groan.

Sherlock's head snaps up and his eyes quickly open. Only halfway, for he stares at John through heavy lidded eyes as his mouth drops open and he groans John's name loudly. His cock pulses and spills come all over his hand.

Sherlock's body sags in the chair as he gives himself one last squeeze. He takes many deep breathes as he watches the last of his come squirt out, then looks up at John.

Sherlock grins and stands, his legs wobbling. "I've changed my mind. After dinner I'm going to fuck you as punishment for making me wait all day."

"Punishment? Surely that's not punishment."

Sherlock glances at the bulge in John's jeans. "It will be when you find out how long I plan to keep you on edge." He chuckles and turns to go to the restroom.

"Sherlock?" John calls as he disappears. "Sherlock?!"


	5. Day 5: Blow Job

**Day 5: Blow Job**

* * *

Sherlock crowds John against the kitchen table, pressing tightly against him and grinning.

"Miss me?" Sherlock asks, kissing John's neck.

"Of course," John replies, holding Sherlock's head against his neck. "Did you?"

"Mmm," is all Sherlock sounds, now pulling John's shirt out of his jeans.

John just moans and kisses Sherlock's ear, but then Sherlock begins to slide to his knees, out of John's reach.

"Let's go to bed…" John tries, pulling at Sherlock's shoulders.

Sherlock continues to his knees and shakes his head. Soon, he hits the floor beneath them and unbuttons John's jeans. He pulls John's pants down without warning, then wraps his lips around the head of John's cock.

John bites his lip and groans. He was only away three days, and there's no saying that he even missed out on any sex in that three days, but it still feels like he hasn't felt Sherlock's mouth on him in forever. He runs his hands through Sherlock's hair and clutches the curls lightly.

Sherlock moans when he feels John's hands, and he starts playing with John's cock. He licks at the head in his mouth, then pulls off and pushes John's cock against his belly. Sherlock wetly kisses up the shaft, swirling his tongue around the vein and down to John's sac.

He opens his mouth and gets one of John's balls into his mouth. Then, he takes hold of John's erection with a big hand and strokes in time with the sucking rhythm of his mouth.

"Ahh, _jeee_—" John moans, gripping the edge of the table with one hand and Sherlock's hair tighter with the other. He throws his head back, and Sherlock leaves off his balls to lick back up John's shaft.

This time, Sherlock swallows John's cock whole. He moans, the vibration ringing throughout John's entire body.

"God, Sherlock, that's good, that's—" John holds Sherlock's head still and thrusts lightly into his hot mouth. John groans and looks down to watch his erection slide in and out of that gorgeous mouth.

Sherlock slowly blinks his gaze up to John, and John nearly shouts as he pulls Sherlock's head tight against him.

Sherlock can feel his gag reflex slowly getting more sensitive, so he pulls off John completely and strokes him with his hand instead. He licks his lips and opens his mouth wide, then pokes his tongue out to stoke the slit of John's cock.

With that and another loud moan, John comes into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock continues to stroke John through his orgasm, catching every drop of come as it spills out of John.

Finally, John's body sags with relief and Sherlock quickly stands. He doesn't give John time to protest, not that John would, before he takes a tube of lube out of his back pocket and pushes John onto the table.

"Were you carrying that around?" John asks, letting Sherlock push him onto the table. He spreads his legs and lays back against his arms.

Sherlock bites his lip and nods, silently unbuckling his belt.

There isn't any more talking after that, just a lot of very loud moaning and the sound of the table wobbling under rough thrusts.


	6. Day 6: Clothed Getting Off

**Day 6: Clothed Getting Off**

* * *

Too much champagne, plus too many chocolate cakes, plus two too many tuxedos, plus one fancy black limousine? What would that equal?

That would equal Sherlock shoved down onto the seat of said limousine, flat on his back with his long legs mashed against the door.

"Hurry, hurry," he whispers, begging. "Get up here."

"Hang…on—" John finally gets fully into the vehicle (yes, Sherlock hadn't even given him a chance to close the door before he was trying to get John's clothes off.

John reaches for Sherlock's belt, planning to take Sherlock's slim, black pants off, but Sherlock shoves him away.

He grabs John by the coat and pulls him up. "Just get up here," he mutters, yanking John on top of him. He shifts so that he's perfectly underneath John, then plunders John mouth while thrusting his hips up into John.

John huffs around Sherlock's tongue. He wraps his arms around Sherlock, making Sherlock arch off the seat and shove his hips harder against John.

"God, love," John pants, working his mouth down to Sherlock's neck. "How are you so hard?"

"I have been all night," Sherlock replies. "Shut up and kiss me again."

John shoves his tongue back into Sherlock's mouth as the car finally starts to move. It doesn't faze either of them, if anything it causes Sherlock to rut harder.

John wants to pull off and calm down a bit, perhaps get Sherlock's pants off if Sherlock insists on getting off in the car, but he hardly has any time to think of a full plan before Sherlock's entire body goes hard and he grips John roughly. He holds tightly to John's coat lapels and sucks hard on John's neck to keep from groaning too loudly.

Finally, Sherlock calms. He lets John go and pants against his lips.

"You ok?" John asks, lightly kissing Sherlock's mouth and cheek.

Sherlock nods. He silently reaches down for John's belt, but John stops him.

"I'm fucking you properly when we get home," John whispers.

Sherlock moans, pleased. "Will you keep the tuxedo on?"

"I don't think I have a choice, do I?"

Sherlock grins and shakes his head.

John chuckles, then leans down and kisses Sherlock again.


	7. Day 7: Half-Dressed

_**A/N: Uploaded early because I've missed a few days.**_

* * *

**Day 7: Half-Dressed (continuation of Day 6, plus bonus Day 9 (up against the wall) and Day 13 (rimming))**

* * *

They calm down enough to make it home, and once they get upstairs, John rips Sherlock's clothes off. Sherlock certainly doesn't mind, not with the cooled mess in his pants and the need for John's dick.

Once he's completely naked, John pushes him face front into the wall so quickly that Sherlock has to throw his arms up to catch himself. John holds his hips and presses his clothed erection against Sherlock's bum.

"Spread 'em, baby," John says, kissing Sherlock's back.

Sherlock spreads his legs more, lowering himself to John's height. He's not uncomfortable, but he whimpers when John pulls away.

"Need lube," John mutters, then leaves. He returns not a second later and licks his lips at the sight of Sherlock, who stayed completely still while John was gone. "God, you look good," John says, then kisses Sherlock's back again.

He kisses down Sherlock's skin until he's on his knees. He kisses Sherlock's bum, devoting wet kisses to both cheeks, then dives in to where Sherlock's most needing John.

Sherlock hisses and groans from the sudden welcome intrusion. John's tongue is not on him, lapping up and down until it finally stops at his hole.

"Oh, John," Sherlock moans, reaching back and grabbing John's hair. He pushes back onto John's tongue when John pushes that squirmy appendage in.

John licks Sherlock out for nearly five minutes, a lot longer than he thought Sherlock would let him. Finally, as John expected, Sherlock tugs at his hair and begs him to stop.

"I'm going to come again," Sherlock says as John gets to his feet.

"In time, love," John says, unzipping his trousers. He gets his belt undone and shoves his pants and trousers down enough to get his cock out, then rubs the lube onto himself. He takes what's left and rubs it onto Sherlock, then works two fingers into Sherlock to stretch him more.

"You're trying to kill me," Sherlock says, scratching at the wall.

John takes his hand away from Sherlock and stands firmly behind him again. He lines his cock up and pushes in, slowly sinking in all the way. Sherlock moans loudly with relief.

"Yes, _yes…_" Sherlock groans.

John holds Sherlock close and digs his forehead into the back of Sherlock's sweaty head. "How's that, love?"

Sherlock moans in response and tries to shove back onto John's cock, but John holds him firmly.

"Hang on," John says, panting.

Seconds later, John pulls out and firms his stance, then thrusts back into Sherlock with a grunt. Sherlock gasps, dropping his head against the wall.

John thrusts almost as hard as he can from then on. He wraps an arm around Sherlock's waist to hold him up straight, pounding in easily and noisily.

John's belt clanks against Sherlock's hip, his zipper cuts into Sherlock's bum, and the buttons of his shirt dig into Sherlock's back, but Sherlock doesn't care. The feel of John's clothes scraping against his sensitive skin with each thrust just adds to the sensations his body is feeling. It feels so good Sherlock wants to cry, so he just moans loudly with every thrust.

John shifts to hold Sherlock up around his chest, that way his other hand can stroke Sherlock's cock. "Come, baby," John grunts in his ear. "Please come…"

Sherlock spreads his arms along the wall and scratches down the wallpaper, coming with a loud groan and pulsing around John's cock. John bites his shoulder and scratches Sherlock's chest, coming with long awaited relief.

Their breathing slows and steadies and they finally pull off the wall. Sherlock leaves the mess, claiming he'll clean it up later, and stumbles down the hall to their bed. John follows, stripping off his now damp suit along the way.

"How was that?" John asks, joining Sherlock on the bed.

Sherlock practically purrs, stretching out on the bed. "Perfect."

John snuggles close to him. "Next time, I want you to keep your tux on."

"Hmm," Sherlock sounds. "If you shag me as well as you just did, I'll wear anything you want."

John lifts his head to look at Sherlock. "I've got a few ideas then."

Sherlock grins. "What do you have in mind?"


	8. Day 8: Skype Sex

**Day 8: Skype Sex**

* * *

"I told you it was only a five."

"If it was a five, then why am I in Germany doing the leg work for you?"

"Because, John, sometimes five's are just interesting enough to send you instead."

John sighs and snuggles deeper into the hard hotel bed. At least it's a nice hotel. The pillows are fluffy and clean. It's the least Sherlock could do for sending him to Munich for three days.

"I'll be home later," John says. "My flight's at six."

"What are you going to do until then?" Sherlock asks.

John watches him adjust in his bed. It's just after eight in the morning, so they're both freshly awakened. Sherlock's got his laptop rested on a pillow on his lap, so John can see his bare chest.

John grins. "I think you're going to give me a little show, my love."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. John can tell he's genuinely confused. "A show?"

John smirks and makes a rude motion with his hand.

Sherlock's face eases with understanding. "Ahh," he says, grinning. "That's why you wanted to Skype?"

"I don't often get to watch you jerk off, simply because if you're doing it and I'm in the same country, I get my hands on you myself. I'm taking advantage."

Sherlock just smiles. "Alright, John. But if I'm going to wank for you, you're going to wank for me."

"No problem, baby."

Sherlock continues smiling, his grin getting more and more seductive (yes, Sherlock can _smile _sexually), while he adjusts on the bed. He doesn't want to give John a bad angle, so lying down would just look awkward. He sets his laptop on the middle of the bed and gets on his knees at the head of the bed. This way, John's looking at his dick almost dead on.

"Oh, yeah," John mutters. Sherlock's already half hard.

Sherlock's hand slithers down his belly, past his hip, to his thigh, then back up to his growing erection. John moans when Sherlock's long fingers wrap around himself.

"Yeah, this is good, love," John says, reaching under the duvet.

"Ah, ah," Sherlock stops him. "Show me."

John bites his lip and moves his laptop for a second. He can still see the screen, still see Sherlock stroking his now fully hard cock, but Sherlock can't really see what he's doing.

John kicks the duvet away and spreads his legs, then gets the largest pillow and puts it between his legs, at a reasonable distance that his angle wouldn't be weird for Sherlock's viewing. He gets the laptop on the pillow.

"Perfect," Sherlock says, continuing to beat himself off. "Oh, John…"

John spits in his hand and spreads the moisture along his cock. He strokes as well in time that Sherlock is to himself, and Sherlock moans.

"Miss you, baby," John moans. He licks his lips and longs to taste Sherlock's salty sweet cock.

Sherlock moans, watching that appendage squirm around John's pink lips. "I want your tongue on me, John."

"Where?" John pants.

Sherlock slowly begins to thrust into his fist, his other hand disappearing behind himself. "Here," he says, and John realizes he's reached around himself enough to get a finger at his own hole.

John moans. "God, Sherlock…"

Sherlock brings his hand up for a second to suck on his fingers, then puts them right back where they were. Once he's got a finger worked into his hole, he throws his head back and groans loudly at the ceiling.

John works his hand faster over his erection, all the while moaning Sherlock's name. "Oh Sherlock, I'm gonna come, I'm—"

Sherlock spreads his legs wider and watches John as his hand flies faster over himself. "I'm there, John—" is all he can say before he groans impossibly louder and his come spills onto the laptop screen.

All John can do is whimper as he comes all over his fist and stomach. The sight of Sherlock getting himself off is nearly too much, even though he still longs to feel Sherlock's pulsing body against his own. He wants to replace Sherlock's fingers for his own cock to feel Sherlock's convulsing inside and out.

Sherlock takes his hands away when his body finally relaxes. He reaches for a tissue off the bedside table and cleans up the mess he'd made on his laptop.

"How was that?" he asks, his voice deep and rich.

"Exactly what I had in mind," John says. "I hope you're awake when I get home tonight so that I can fuck you properly."

"Can't you get an earlier flight?"

John sighs. "I don't think so, love."

Sherlock grins. "I've got an idea."

* * *

An hour later, John is on a flight back to England courtesy of the elder Holmes. Two hours after that, he's picking up his bags at HeathrowAirport. And another hour after that, he's got Sherlock sprawled out on the bed, his head hanging off the edge and his hips lifted to the perfect height of John's cock. Both know that the Skype sex from only hours previous was good, but this. This is much, much better.


	9. Day 9: Against the Wall

**Day 9: Against the Wall (and a bonus bit of body worship, I think?)**

* * *

It started a week ago when Sherlock wouldn't move his arse off the bed so John could get the sheets. John had no choice, he simply picked Sherlock up off the bed and carried him all the way to the sofa.

This sparked an interest in Sherlock's libido. John's a very small man, and he's seen John naked numerous times, but he's honestly never noticed how muscular John is.

To say the least, he grows obsessed with this. He joins John in the shower every morning, he makes John sleep naked, and once when they have sex, he gets John on his belly to watch John's back muscles flex each time he arches.

Finally, he gets his chance to use John's strength. He really is desperate for John, that's no acting, but John is just as desperate for him. They get into their bedroom (yes, they at least make it to the bedroom this time), and Sherlock pulls John until John's pushing him against the wall next to the door.

"Take me here, John," Sherlock begs.

"Turn around," John demands.

Sherlock bites John's lip and begins to undress. John follows, and soon they're both completely naked.

Sherlock gets himself ready while John kisses him anxiously. John strokes his own cock every few seconds until Sherlock pulls his fingers out and lubes John up.

"How—" John starts, but the point is quickly made when Sherlock lifts a leg to lock around John's hip. "Oh…" he mutters, grabbing Sherlock's other leg and pulling.

Sherlock instantly moans. John's muscles tighten under his skin, and his body suddenly turns rock hard.

"Oh, John…" Sherlock moans, plundering John's mouth with his tongue.

John presses Sherlock as hard as he can against the wall, making sure Sherlock's not going to fall. He firms his stance on the ground, then he thrusts in as hard as he can.

Sherlock yells; it's not even a moan. John's terribly pleased by the sound, so he begins to thrust with abandon. Sherlock scratches at John's shoulders and continues to kiss him.

Sherlock finally opens his eyes to look at John, and he notices the mirror behind them positioned perfectly to see them in the reflection. He watches John's muscles work in time with the thrusts, and he shamelessly loves the pornographic way his legs are wrapped around John's waist, their skin tones contrasting each other more sexually then it should.

Sherlock can't take his eyes off the mirror, and it doesn't take long before he's tightening around John's cock and coming. John yells as loud as he does, coming while still thrusting Sherlock roughly against the wall.

John gingerly sets Sherlock's down once their bodies sag. "Ahh, my thighs," John complains, rubbing his legs.

Sherlock stays slumped against the wall, completely unable to move. He knows he's got wallpaper-burn on his arse and shoulder blades.

"You're fucking me against the wall next time," John mutters as he flops onto the bed. "Ahh, my back…"

Sherlock grins. "I'm sure that could be arranged," he says, joining John on the bed.


	10. Day 10: Doggy Style

_**A/N: Happy New Year's, readers! Have fun watching Sherlock today!**_

* * *

**Day 10: Doggy Style**

* * *

"Hurry up!" Sherlock shouts.

There's no need for him to shout. John is so close to him that he could whisper and John would hear him clear as day.

"I haven't even gotten my pants off!" John shouts back.

Again, there's absolutely no need to shout.

The reason they're both shouting is because they're drunk. Completely rat arsed drunk. That's what happens when they get invited to not one, but four New Year's Parties. Two parties brought in the London New Year, while the other two were valiantly awaiting the New York New Year. And honestly, they're far too old for that. So it's three in the morning, they're completely smashed, and Sherlock's barely got his trousers shoved to his ankles.

John bites his lip so hard it bleeds. But that's a reasonable reaction to Sherlock's bare bum waving in the air.

Luckily, Sherlock had left the lube on the bed from the night before, or else John probably wouldn't have thought to grab it before sticking his fingers into Sherlock. But he does, so preparation is much easier.

Finally, Sherlock's ready for him, so John lines up and shoves in.

Honestly, it's a wonder they're even having sex right now. Two cocks as drunk as theirs shouldn't be able to perform to their highest ability, but they'd been at the foreplay for hours prior to this (stolen kisses between sips of gin and tonic, a tongue in an ear while riding a lift to the third party, a squeeze between the legs under the table at the fourth party). The point is, once John's in, he kind of forgets what's happening.

Sherlock brings him back to earth quickly, wiggling his hips for John. He moans loudly and continues, finally managing the back-and-forth motion.

John places his hands on Sherlock's hips and watches his cock thrust in and out of Sherlock's arse. He watches mesmerized, unable to move or make any noise.

Sherlock, however, groans loud enough for each of them.

It last longer than they both thought it would. Sherlock eventually shoves back hard enough to snap John out of it, so John begins to thrust wildly instead. Sherlock drops to his elbows, one hand reaching between his legs. John runs his hands up Sherlock's back and stretches completely over Sherlock, never slowly the force of his thrusts.

Sherlock's back arches beautifully when he comes, and John's cock has no choice but to follow suit. He bites Sherlock's shoulder as he does, his teeth breaking the skin and forming a bruise that'll last well over a week.

They collapse onto the bed and catch their breath.

"Shit," John slurs. "I can't even think of my own name."

"It's Sherlock,"Sherlock says.

"That's your name," John informs him.

"Is it?"

John shrugs.

"Well," Sherlock says, "whatever your name is, I love you."

John laughs. "I love you, too."

"Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, love."


	11. Day 11: DomSub

**_A/N: I don't think I've ever written something like this on purpose, at least not in a while, so this chapter was extremely difficult. I hope it turned out alright. Also, these stories (and my other fics) won't change because of the new episodes. These are AU's, and most of my stories (even if they don't say it, in my head they are) take place after John and Mary (get divorced, in my world). So hope everyone still likes this and the other things I write. Anyway, enjoy, please review! _**

**_Also, I had most of my trouble in this writing one of them the dom, so that's why John is called "The Voice". It is John, I just, like I said, had difficulty writing him like this. Anyway, hope you enjoy._**

* * *

** Day 11: Dom/Sub**

* * *

"Come back," Sherlock hears.

It's far off, distant, and there's static between him and the voice calling to him. It sounds like someone calling from down the beach during early morning tide. He can't see The Voice, though. It's too dark.

"Stand," The Voice demands this time.

It's closer, louder, like it's finally catching up to Sherlock. He isn't moving; The Voice _will_ catch him.

He wants to be caught. He _needs_ to be caught.

So Sherlock stands.

"Keep your eyes closed," The Voice says, at his ear.

It's loud, booming, demanding, but also intimate and wanting. He wants to be wanted.

"Follow me," The Voice demands this time, far away again.

Sherlock blindly steps around the coffee table and towards the voice, somewhere off towards the kitchen. Footsteps walk down the hall to their bedroom, so he follows. Gladly.

"Take off your clothes," The Voice demands.

Sherlock heart skips a beat. The thought that he has no idea what's about to happen is causing a mystery inside his head that he'll gladly not solve. He wants to be surprised. He _needs _to be surprised.

"You've given me permission before, but I need it again, Sherlock," The Voice says. "Say yes and I'll do whatever I want with you."

"Yes," Sherlock hisses. It's a whisper, a word so faint that The Voice needs to stop breathing for it to be heard.

"Again."

"Yes," Sherlock sighs.

"Louder!" The Voice shouts this time.

"Yes!" Sherlock yells back.

A riding crop sound worse than it feels, so when Sherlock _hears _leather crack against his skin, he falls to his knees with an even louder moan. His body vibrates with pleasure, with need, and his cock hardens nearly instantly.

It's not a second before the tongue of the whip is being brushed down his back.

"Where next, Sherlock?" The Voice asks in front of him.

Sherlock hadn't even heard him move, though his mind is very much one-track at the moment, and the track it's on is going back and forth between the sting on the back of his thighs.

"Here?" The Voice asks, and suddenly the riding crop is licking at the bead of pre-come pooled at the head of his cock.

Sherlock gasps. Of course, he knows The Voice would never hit his cock, but the thought that the little weapon is so close to the area, it makes Sherlock leak more.

The Voice chuckles and spreads the pre-come up his abdomen, to his chest, throat, chin, mouth. "How about here?" he asks, shoving the leather between beautiful lips.

Sherlock moans and opens his mouth.

The riding crop disappears and it's replaced with the wet head of a lovely cock.

"Suck it," The Voice demands.

Sherlock eagerly swallows the cock as far as he can. A hand grips his head and yanks his hair, and Sherlock groans and squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to beg for the whip again, he wants to feel it on his skin, so he replaces the words he wants to use with the vicious suction of his mouth.

The Voice doesn't make any noise, and Sherlock knows he doesn't want to give any sort of satisfaction of a job well done. Sherlock pulls back enough to just keep the head in his mouth, and he sucks as if nursing, swallowing the pre-come leaking out as if feeding.

Suddenly, the cock he's finding so delicious is gone and not a second later his abdomen stings with contact from the whip. He groans high and loud, breathless from the shock and relief. He throws his head back and bites his lip, wishing so hard to touch his cock, but then his head is yanked back down and the cock is shoved back between plush lips.

This time, The Voice thrusts his hips and fucks Sherlock face while holding Sherlock tight by the hair. Sherlock moans between thrusts, glad to be used. Spit and pre-come spills from his mouth down his chin to his chest. He really, really doesn't mind.

"Touch your cock," The Voice growls.

Sherlock doesn't want to wait to be asked twice. He takes hold of his cock and strokes unevenly, not even finding a rhythm before he sees his orgasm arriving.

"Stop."

With a pained groan, his hand stops. The dick falls out of his mouth with a slurpy pop and he knows there's still spit hanging from his mouth. He doesn't care. His heart beats roughly in his chest and he wants to badly to beg, but he doesn't.

And there are one, two, three slaps to his back, and he falls forward onto his hands and arches his back for, he prays, more hits. None come, and he moans loudly as if being fucked in the arse. He wants that, he wants anything.

"Get up," The Voice says, and Sherlock instantly rises once again.

His hair is yanked back again, and he opens his mouth, but he hears wet passes of a hand over the cock, so he waits. In second, come streaks his cheeks and chin, some lands in his mouth.

He wants to cry, his cock is so hard, so he's thankful when he feels fingers wrap around his cock. He nearly screams, then falls back on his arms and arches as he comes all over the body in front of him.

"John!" he yells as he comes.

Wet kisses spread all over his neck and chest, sucking on every bit of skin that can be reached. Sherlock can't be bothered that mouth marks with be visible in the morning.

Arms wrap around his chest and a body pushes him backwards until he's lying completely on the floor.

"Are you ok?" The Voice, _John, _whispers.

"Yes," Sherlock answers, breathless. "Perfect."

"Obviously," John says. "I wanted to take you out of your own mind. Did I succeed?"

"Yes," Sherlock says again, patting John's back. "Success is a small word for what this describes."

John chuckles. "Good," he says, kissing Sherlock's cheek. "Next time, I want to whip you while I'm fucking you."

Sherlock rotates his hips up at the body on top of him. "God, John," he moans, then turns them over so he's on top of John.

"I love you," John whispers between kisses. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Sherlock says, kissing John deeply. 


	12. Day 12: Fingering

**Day 12: Fingering**

* * *

"Spread your legs more," Sherlock says, mouthing at John's hip.

"I..." John stutters a breath. "I can't..."

Sherlock slides up, closer to John's upper body. John spreads his left leg more, tucking it under Sherlock's arm.

"There you go," Sherlock sighs, breathless. He presses his hips hard against the sofa, trying to relieve the ache in his groin, then leans down to kiss John.

Sherlock continues to expertly thrust his fingers in and out of John, every inward motion pressing against John's prostate. He focuses on the tightness around his three fingers, trying so hard to hold out from pulling his fingers out and impaling John with his cock. There's an experiment at stake.

"Touch my cock..." John begs, nipping at Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock squeezes his eyes shut tight and swirls the tip of his middle finger around John's prostate. John moans and bucks beneath him.

"I need to make you come with just my hand," Sherlock whispers, pressing his forehead against John's.

"You've been at it for fifteen minutes," John groans. "Just fuck me already."

Sherlock twists his wrist and touches John inside everywhere. John moans loudly and claws at Sherlock's back, making Sherlock's cock leak in his pants.

"I'm not going to come this way," John finally says. "You need to-"

Sherlock thrusts his fingers in and out quickly half a dozen times, John practically screaming the whole time, then leans over and swallows his cock. John comes not a second later in hot spurts down Sherlock's throat.

Sherlock pulls his fingers out and undoes his trousers, then shoves his pants down far enough to get his cock out. He climbs onto the sofa, between John's widespread thighs, and finally gets his cock into John.

A few frantic thrusts later, he's coming deep inside.

"Oh," Sherlock sighs once he begins to relax. "That was perfect."

"I'm fingering you to oblivion next time."

Sherlock chuckles. "Deal."


	13. Day 13: Rimming

**Day 13: Rimming**

* * *

It started with flavored lube. John knew it was a mistake from the start, but when Sherlock dragged him into that sex shop (it really was for a case), he was starving and couldn't pass up strawberry, cherry, grape, cinnamon, watermelon, or vanilla cupcake flavored lubricants.

The grape went well that night slathered on Sherlock's dripping cock.

The cinnamon was really very relaxing in the hot shower the next morning.

The watermelon gave Sherlock an allergic reaction when he licked it off John's belly. It was a different brand than the others, so now they know Sherlock's allergic to that brand.

The vanilla cupcake was thrown out the second John poured some onto his finger and tasted a very tiny bit.

The cherry got Sherlock high. Well, not high, but John found that evening that Sherlock is one of those people who can _not_ consume certain dyes in food because he gets hyperactive. More hyperactive than usual. (Sherlock did not _shut up _for two straight hours.)

The strawberry, three weeks after purchasing it, sounds the most promising. John grins as he grabs the tube and shakes it, indicating to the man reclining back on the bed that it was going to make an appearance in their bedroom activities that night.

Sherlock grins back.

"I want to try something," he says, taking the tube from John.

"Oh?" John mutters, lying back on the bed. "What?"

They just got out of the shower. It was much needed after rushing through many London alleys after a thief. They're squeaky clean, and Sherlock wants to really taste that lube.

"Turn over?" Sherlock asks, kneeling over John.

John's look grows uneasy.

"Come on, John," Sherlock says. "We have talked about it."

John licks his lips, knowing that it does sound appealing. "Alright," he says, turning over onto his stomach. "Go easy on me."

Sherlock smiles, then spreads John's thighs and settles on top of him.

Sherlock starts at John's shoulder blades, pouring a spot of lube out and sucking the soft skin until he tasted only John.

"Just making sure I'm not allergic," he says, kissing the spot he'd left with his mouth.

John chuckles. "How is it?"

Sherlock shifts down a bit and pours more on John's spine. He licks at it again, breathlessly moaning at the taste.

John knows _that_ moan. It's the 'this-tastes-so-good-why-do-I-live-without-food' moan. It's how Sherlock sounds when he eats something sweet (sweets being his favorite food).

"Good, then?" John asks.

Sherlock bites at his back, then climbs up John once again. His head is right next to John's, so he pulls John's chin towards his and sticks his tongue out, then pours a small dab of lube on his tongue.

John grabs Sherlock's tongue with his own mouth, sucking on that appendage until it's free of strawberry and all Sherlock. Sherlock kisses him with as much force he can, showing John what he can do with his mouth.

John moans and pulls away. "Get that tongue on me, Sherlock," he growls.

Sherlock grins, then sits back and kisses down John's back again.

Sherlock settles on the bed between John's legs, his own erection digging into the bed. He kisses John's thigh and the bottom of John's bum, then laughs when John giggles.

"Tickled," John says.

Naturally, Sherlock does it again until John squirms.

Sherlock finally gets down to business when John thrusts his hips into the mattress and at Sherlock's face. Sherlock bites his lip and uncaps the lube. Then, with one hand he spreads John's cheeks apart and pours a tiny bit of lube in the space he created.

He licks it quickly, not wanting it to waste.

It's possible that Sherlock moans louder than John at this. John's up on his elbows, so when Sherlock makes that first swipe, he hangs his head and arches slightly more. Sherlock watches John's back muscles flex and wants to see it over and over.

So, he continues down, spreading John and pouring, then licking and even sucking. John bucks into the bed, and Sherlock watches his back and sucks at him.

Finally, after what seems like ages to both men, Sherlock gets to John's hole. The puckered flesh reflexively tightens when Sherlock spreads John again, and John hisses when Sherlock pours the lube right onto the pink little ring.

"Cold," John mutters.

"Let me fix that," Sherlock says, then dives right in.

The first lick is a broad stripe across John's hole using his entire tongue. He moans, tasting the strawberry, but more at the loud, loud, _loud_ noise John makes. Sherlock clenches his eyes shut, almost too turned on to bare, and continues licking at John with his whole tongue.

"Oh, Sherlock!" John cries, reaching behind himself and grabbing Sherlock's hair, trying to push Sherlock's head down more.

Sherlock tightens and straightens his tongue, then pushes the wet muscle into John's hole.

"Oh my god!" John yells, letting Sherlock go and falling against the bed. He shoves his hips up at Sherlock's mouth, and Sherlock valiantly hangs on.

Sherlock continues to pierce John over and over until John is begging for nothing. Sherlock pulls up enough for John to get his hips up, then Sherlock reaches around and grabs John's erection. In seconds, John's coming against the bed, tightening wonderfully around Sherlock's tongue.

Sherlock licks until John relaxes and tells him to stop. Then, Sherlock climbs up again and presses his cock against John's arse.

He tries to kiss John, but John pulls away.

"But John," Sherlock says, taking the lube and swallowing some more, "It tastes like strawberries."

John laughs and accepts, kissing Sherlock while Sherlock ruts against him. He comes in no time, with the taste of John and strawberries on his tongue.


	14. Day 14: 69

**_A/N: Sorry some of these are so short. The creative juices don't flow everyday. Enjoy, though! Please review!_**

* * *

** Day 14: 69**

* * *

"Why are you so short?" Sherlock grunts, pulling off John and taking as deep a breath as he can.

"You insisted on being on the bottom," John replies, shifting to take his weight off Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock sighs. John moans, since Sherlock's hot breath spreads over his cock.

"Ok, switch," Sherlock says, pushing John back onto the bed.

John lands with a soft 'umph', and Sherlock jumps on top of him.

"I don't know why you insist on doing it like this at all," John says as Sherlock adjusts on top of him. "We don't fit together right."

"Technically nine is bigger than six, and they do fit together just fine."

John purses his lips, thinking about what Sherlock means, then he realizes that numerically nine _is _bigger than six. He laughs. "Alright, one more try," he says, reaching up a bit and licking the head of Sherlock's cock.

"Ok, ready?" Sherlock asks, huffing out a surprised breath.

John nods.

Sherlock drops his hips down and slides into John's mouth, and John reaches up and grabs his hips to help Sherlock set the pace of thrusts.

With a groan of pleasure, Sherlock falls forward and captures John's cock with his mouth, and John slowly pushes up into Sherlock's mouth.

They set an easy pace of thrusting and sucking, and John remembers why this is the most lovely thing to do with Sherlock. Sucking Sherlock off while getting sucked off? Perfect.

Plus, John has the perfect angle to get fingers into Sherlock's arse. He pulls off Sherlock's cock and sucks on his fingers, then wraps his arm around Sherlock's hip, to his bum, and sticks a fingertip into Sherlock's hole.

He swirls that finger around and sucks Sherlock in deep, and Sherlock repays him by wrapping a hand around his shaft and stroking quickly.

Of course, John can't get his fingers very far into Sherlock, but Sherlock obviously doesn't mind with John's mouth on him.

John reaches down and clutches Sherlock's hair when he starts to come. He pushes Sherlock's head down and bucks his hips, and when he feels Sherlock harden in his mouth, he opens his throat and lets Sherlock in as deep as he can go.

When Sherlock sighs and slumps against John, John lets him go to fall over onto the bed. They both stare at the ceiling, Sherlock's head by John's feet and John's head by Sherlock's feet.

"Alright," John says. "I get why you like this so much."

Sherlock chuckles from deep down in his throat. "I knew I could convince you."

John smiles. He leans over and kisses Sherlock's ankle. "Come on," he says, heaving himself off the bed. "Shower."

"Think we could do that in the shower?" Sherlock asks, following John up.

John laughs. "We can try."


	15. Day 15: Sweet and Passionate

**Day 15: Sweet and Passionate**

* * *

"I loved this case," Sherlock says, entering the cab. "It was actually _fun. _And I don't use the word 'fun' very often."

Sherlock goes on about the case as the car begins to move, and John stops listening to him. It's not that John doesn't want to listen to Sherlock, if anything John would love to contain this excitement. But the case ended badly, and John is a little angry.

Ok, a lot of angry.

Sherlock ran after the murderer before John could join him, and Sherlock got himself cornered with a gun to his head. Sure, they've been in similar situations enough times, but this particular criminal had enough screws loose to actually shoot Sherlock had Lestrade's men not arrived and intervened. The criminal actually took a shot and Sherlock darted out of the way. Though the bullet didn't go anywhere near Sherlock's head, "_Shots fired_" ringing through Lestrade's radio still made John throw up.

So angry, yes. John is about half angry because Sherlock ran off by himself and nearly got himself killed. The other half of John is just relieved. Sherlock isn't dead. Sherlock is right here. He's fine. He's breathing and talking and perfectly fine.

They arrive home and John decides he needs to take his mind off the anger before he kills Sherlock himself. So, instead of yelling and telling Sherlock how stupid his decision had been, John decides to focus on relief.

When they step through the door of their flat, and once their coats are off and hung, John grabs Sherlock's hand and pulls him close.

"Hmm?" Sherlock sounds, then kisses John back.

They stand in the sitting room kissing for many minutes. John runs his fingers through Sherlock's curls, and Sherlock wraps his long arms around John's small middle.

Sherlock fights for hard and fast, his tongue quickly flicking around John's mouth, but John places a hand at Sherlock's jaw to tell him to slow down. Sherlock eases, and John plunders Sherlock's mouth with no rush.

They don't part as John pulls Sherlock to their bedroom. Once there, they slowly strip before climbing onto the bed and stretching out together.

They stroke and rub and kiss, and many minutes later, Sherlock's a begging mess.

"Please, John," Sherlock whines, turning onto his back and pulling John on top of him. "I need you…"

John reaches over for the lube. He spreads Sherlock's thighs and begins to stretch Sherlock, all without saying a word.

Sherlock, however, talks enough for both of them, muttering things like _yes, more, _and _harder. _"John…John…_John…_" he sighs over and over, scratching at John's back and continuing to kiss John passionately.

Finally, John pulls his fingers out and settles between Sherlock's legs. He slowly pushes in, his forehead and nose pressed against Sherlock's.

They take many deep breaths, getting high on each other's air, and when Sherlock moans from the back of his throat, John bites Sherlock's lip and shallowly thrusts.

John's hands roam all over Sherlock's body, stroking his smooth skin and just feeling Sherlock beneath him. When he thrusts, he feels Sherlock inside and out, and when he shoves his tongue into Sherlock's moaning mouth, he's overcome with emotion.

He buries his face in Sherlock's neck and begins to thrust harder, but still slowly, then kisses Sherlock's sweaty skin and licks up to his ear.

"I thought I lost you," John whispers before he can think about it. "I was so scared, Sherlock, I—"

Sherlock wraps himself tighter around John and John stops moving. "Sshhh," he whispers. "I'm here."

John's hands trail down Sherlock's body again, just feeling his skin. "Don't do that again," he says, breathless. "Please, never scare me like that again."

Sherlock nods. "I won't, I promise."

John bites his earlobe, then kisses his cheek to his mouth. "I love you, Sherlock," he whispers against Sherlock's sensitive lips. "I love you…"

Sherlock is about to reply, but John cuts him off by kissing him deeply and thrusting again.

Sherlock meets John with every thrust, and John reaches between them to grab Sherlock's cock. He strokes Sherlock evenly and just fast enough for Sherlock to arch off the bed and come with a loud groan.

John comes seconds after Sherlock, clutching Sherlock tightly and gasping, "I love you…" again.

John rests his head on Sherlock's chest, but Sherlock pulls him up and kisses him over and over.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispers. "I'm sorry, John…"

"It's ok," John says. "It's alright now. But if you do that again, my love, I'll fucking kill you myself."

Sherlock laughs against John's lips. "Deal."

John smiles, then leans down and bites Sherlock's collarbone.


	16. Day 16: In a Public Place

**Day 16: In a Public Place**

* * *

Every once in a while, Sherlock needs something mundane to settle his mind. You would think something normal would push him over the edge to insanity, but doing something normal for a specific amount of time is calming.

John decides he needs a movie. Sitting in a dark room trying to solve the end of the movie amuses Sherlock and makes John laugh. Whispering the plot to each other, making up lines; plus, the popcorn isn't too bad.

They get two tickets for the longest movie, then get into their theater and climb up to the top. Other people tend to sit in the middle, so John and Sherlock sit in the very back to be able to talk during the movie without interrupting anybody.

In minutes, the lights dim and the previews start. Nobody else joins them in the theater, and they realize they're all alone.

"Ahh," Sherlock whispers. "Alone in the dark."

John grins. "Keep your hands to yourself, mister. We're in public."

"No promises, John," Sherlock says, kissing John's ear.

Sherlock grows bored quickly. The longest movie is a romantic comedy, and the only thing interesting is that the main male character is quite attractive.

Sherlock looks over at John. John is watching so intently and seems so interested in the movie, not to mention he's slowly shoveling popcorn into his beautiful mouth.

Sherlock's eyes widen as he glances down at his lap. He takes a deep breath and crosses his legs. _There's no way I'm turned on by John eating popcorn, _he thinks.

John glances at him. "Alright over there?"

Sherlock nods. He clears his throat. "Uh, fine, yeah."

John smiles at him. "Want some popcorn?"

"Sure," Sherlock says, then reaches over for the bowl on John's lap.

John beats him to it, picking up a piece and placing it in Sherlock's mouth. He smiles at Sherlock, an innocent smile that means nothing, but Sherlock licks John's fingers as he pulls away anyway.

John leans over and kisses Sherlock's cheek, then relaxes again to watch the movie.

Sherlock watches, too, all the while thinking of John doing to him what the male main character does to the female; John kissing him, John biting his ear, John ripping off his jeans, John—

Sherlock licks his lips and looks down at his lap again. He spreads his legs and crosses them again, the other way, and John watches him.

"Touch yourself," John whispers.

Sherlock looks at him in shock. "What?"

"Touch yourself," John repeats. "Or me."

"Or—"

John reaches over and takes Sherlock's hand, then pushes Sherlock's hand to his crotch. He spreads his fingers over Sherlock's hand and moves Sherlock's hand for him.

"Oh, yeah…" John sighs, sliding down in his seat more to spread his legs. He opens up his trousers and Sherlock slides his hand into his pants.

Sherlock's heart begins to beat faster as he strokes John. He feels worked up in his pants, too, his cock pulsing with each little thrust from John. He palms himself through his trousers, and groans lowly in John's ear.

John finally reaches over and grabs Sherlock's cock, squeezing almost too hard. Sherlock bites his lip to hold back a groan, knowing that little noises could be heard from the worker in the projector room above them.

They finally have a smooth rhythm going, their hips moving and their hands stroking. They lean over and kiss deeply, then Sherlock comes in his pants. John comes seconds later, after watching Sherlock's perfect face orgasm without making any noise.

Sherlock licks John's come from his fingers. John watches as he catches his breath, and when Sherlock's done, John grabs his head and pulls him in for another hot kiss.

They make out for nearly the entire remainder of the movie. As the credits begin, they part, and as they stand to leave, they see another couple leaving the theater.

They look at each other with wide eyes. John blushes furiously and Sherlock bites his lip.

"Were they here the whole time?" John asks, watching the couple go.

"I don't know, I was a bit too busy to notice."

John covers his face and groans. "Oh god, we're not going to be allowed back here."

"That's too bad," Sherlock says. "That was the most intense orgasm I've had in a while."

"Don't get used to it," John says, still blushing. "I'm not doing anything like this ever again."

"But John," Sherlock starts as they exit the theater. "I know a great spot in the park where we can—"

"No."

"What about behind the clinic where—"

"No."

"Well what about—"

"No!"

Sherlock frowns. "Okay. At least it was fun this once."

John grabs his hand as they get out onto the street. "Yes, this _once_."

Of course, John doesn't keep his promise. Not after Sherlock learned how fun public sex can be.


	17. Day 17: On the Floor

**Day 17: On the Floor**

* * *

"I can't sleep," Sherlock whispers into the dark. It's late, very late, and he's sure John is asleep, but he talks anyway. "John, I said I can't sleep."

"I fucking heard you, Sherlock," John growls.

Sherlock turns over to face John. "You want to…help me get tired?"

John sighs and Sherlock can see his shadow stretch out in the dark. "Alright," John licks his lips. "Come get me in the mood, then."

Sherlock scoots over and attaches to John's side, then leans in and kisses John's neck.

John hums. "There's a start."

Sherlock tries harder, licking John's neck and leaving wet kisses all over John's jaw. He moans in John's ear and trails his hand down John's belly.

"Alright," John grunts, pushing Sherlock over and climbing on top of him. He kisses Sherlock deeply.

"Get the lube," Sherlock whispers with John's tongue still in his mouth.

John reaches over to the bedside table, and Sherlock flips John over again to be on top. The duvet tangles around them as they wrap together again.

"I want to be on top," Sherlock says, straddling John's thighs.

"Take your fucking pants off then," John says, grabbing for Sherlock's pants.

"You're sweary John," Sherlock mutters. "Why are you so sweary?"

"I'm fucking tired, you dick," John says, squirting lube onto his hand. "Come on, hurry up."

Sherlock squirms to get his pants off, not realizing how close to the edge of the bed they are. John holds his hip to steady him, but Sherlock flies off the bed, taking the duvet with him.

John bursts into laughter. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock landed with a hard thump, so he groans seconds after the fall. "Ugh! Ow!"

John laughs, sitting up to look down. "You ok?"

"Hurt," Sherlock says. He looks up at John and smiles, then reaches up and takes hold of John's lubed hand.

"Sherlock, my hand!"

Sherlock pays no attention, just yanks until John falls off the bed and on top of him.

John laughs and settles between Sherlock's legs. He laughs against Sherlock's lips and nips at his chin.

"Are we going to fuck or what?" Sherlock asks, laughing.

"Don't know," John replies. "Ask again."

"Are you going to fuck me, John? Here on our bedroom floor?"

"Of course, my love," John says, reaching up for the lube again.

Sherlock smiles as John re-pours the lube, then John reaches between them for Sherlock's hole. He slowly circles the flesh, then presses in.

In minutes, Sherlock is stretched and begging, and John is lubing up his cock.

"Ok, ready?" John asks, taking hold of himself.

"Yes, John, _please_!"

John smiles and pushes in, kissing Sherlock's chin when he throws his head back against the rough floor.

"Oh, ow," Sherlock sighs, grabbing for the back of his head.

John frowns. "Uh, here," he says, scrunching up part of the duvet and placing it under Sherlock's head. "Better?"

Sherlock nods against the cushion, then John pushes in again.

John builds up a steady rhythm of thrusts, and Sherlock moans beneath him. He loves the sound of Sherlock's breathless groans and Sherlock's fingernails scraping against the floor, that sound alone making him thrust harder.

"_Ugh_!" Sherlock cries, locking his legs tight around John. "Wood burn!" he says, lifting his hips and reaching for his backside.

John chuckles and thrusts pointedly. "I'll give you some wood burn," he jokes.

"You _are_ giving me wood burn!" Sherlock cries, unlocking his legs and pushing John back. "Get up."

"Onto the—"

"No, just…" Sherlock spreads the duvet underneath them and resumes his position on the floor. "Ok, go ahead."

John smiles widely and pushes in again, this time staying up on his knees to look down at Sherlock. However, the angle is weird and John can't quite thrust as well as he wants to.

"I can't…" John says, "You're too low."

Sherlock bites his lip and pauses to think, then gets an idea. He catches the side of the bedside drawer with his toes and pulls himself up a bit. John holds his hips this way, Sherlock's help making it easier for him to hold on and thrust.

"Oh yeah," John sighs. "There we go."

Sherlock grins and takes hold of his cock, continuing to moan loudly as John thrusts deeply and wildly.

John throws his head back and pants at the ceiling, digging his fingernails into Sherlock's hip as he feels heat build up between his legs. When he feels Sherlock tighten, he shoves in one last hard time and comes as Sherlock orgasms around him.

Sherlock's feet fall from the bedside drawer and John falls over on top of him.

"How was that?" John asks, kissing Sherlock's chest.

"Perfect," Sherlock says, "Exactly what I needed."

"You needed me to fuck you on the floor?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Bed, floor, I'd have had you on the street curb had it meant growing tired in the end."

John laughs and heaves himself up. "Well, bed now. No use sleeping on the floor, is there?" John stands and looks down at Sherlock, who looks utterly sated and worn out.

Sherlock groans as John pulls him up. "Just leave me here!"

"Get on the bed!"

Sherlock whines and stands, then wraps himself entirely around John.

"Oh, you baby," John says, falling onto the bed with Sherlock wrapped around him. "I suppose I'm not getting the duvet, am I?"

"I'll keep you warm," Sherlock says, yawning into John's ear.

John smiles. "It's the least you could do after I make you more tired than a sleeping pill."

Sherlock kisses John's cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, love."


	18. Day 18: Morning Lazy Sex

**Day 18: Morning Lazy Sex**

* * *

Sunday mornings are slow.

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays are consumed by work. If it's not the clinic, it's a case. If it's not a case, it's the clinic.

Saturdays are for research and pubs. If Sherlock's not on a case, he's at the library or finishing experiments. John helps as much as he can, but most of the time Sherlock works on those alone. So instead, John joins Lestrade or Stamford for an evening out.

Sundays are slow. They sleep late, eat breakfast at eleven, have an early dinner, then go to bed early just out of pure boredom.

If they have sex, it's in the morning.

Sunday mornings are beautiful. The light streams in through the curtain, and on Sundays that light is softer than normal. Sometimes it rains, which sounds and smells delightful, and it makes the morning all the more gorgeous.

They wake up wrapped together tightly. It's warm, of course, extremely hot under the duvet.

John wakes first. He tightens an arm around Sherlock's waist and presses a hand to Sherlock's chest. He sniffs loudly, his nose picking up many wonderful scents; Sherlock's skin smells of sleep sweat and soap from the shower they shared the night before. Plus, John can smell himself on Sherlock's skin, and the thought that he marks Sherlock without even _marking_ him is just delightful.

He pulls Sherlock closer and bites at his shoulder.

By now, Sherlock is awake. He doesn't open his eyes or make any attempt to move out of John's grasp, he just bends his back like a cat and rubs his bum against John's erection.

"Mmm…" John kisses his shoulder. "Nice."

Sherlock does it again, this time John places a hand on his hip and joins in.

They get worked up and desperate quickly. John pulls back and gets the lube from its usual spot, then taps Sherlock's thigh until he slightly lifts it off the other.

John squirts a dollop of lube on the inside of Sherlock's lower thigh, right under his bum. He tosses the lube away and places his cock in the lube, then taps Sherlock's thigh again until he lowers it to squeeze John's cock.

Sometimes they do this. It's slow. It's gentle. It's unbelievable sexy. Sherlock can feel all of John against the sensitive skin of his thigh, and as he strokes himself, the feel of John rocking against him is quite magnificent. But the thought of John thrusting against him is maddening; he wants to feel John inside of him.

But with heat quickly coiling in his groin, this is good enough.

"Oh," Sherlock sighs, stretching his body again. "John…"

John thrusts faster, feeling his own orgasm approaching quickly. He sighs Sherlock's name over and over, kissing Sherlock's back and stroking his extremely soft skin.

"John, I'm—" Sherlock cries. "I'm—"

"Come, baby," John sighs, "Let me feel you."

Sherlock's body tightens in John's grip as he comes into his hand. The stretching and the shouting pushes John over the edge, and he comes between Sherlock's shaking thighs.

Once calm, John reaches over for the tissues. He cleans Sherlock up and returns back to his spot gripping Sherlock securely.

Sherlock takes many deep breaths and holds John's arm around him.

"Beautiful day," John whispers into Sherlock's curls. "Let's take a walk."

"I'm not leaving this flat. As a matter of fact, I'm not leaving this bed."

John grins. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Sherlock kisses John's hand.

"Love you," John says, yawning.

"I love you, too."


	19. Day 19: Outside, woods, parks, gardens

**Day 19: Outside, woods, parks, gardens**

* * *

It's late at night. Well, not that late, but it seems late because of the impending rain and the fact that it's a Monday night. Nobody lingers the streets on Mondays, everyone's recovering from the first day of the week so they go to bed early.

John and Sherlock would be at home asleep, too, had they not _just _gotten off a case. It was quick an easy, it only took about three hours to solve, but since they started late, it ended late.

On the ride back home, Sherlock stops the driver and tells him to leave them off two miles from home. The park is in between, and as soon as he's out of the car, he heads for the vast land of greenery.

John reluctantly follows. It's not _that _late, he doesn't need to go to bed _yet. _

As soon as they're covered in trees and bushes, Sherlock crowds John close and kisses him deeply.

"No, Sherlock," John sighs against Sherlock's lips. "Not again, I told you not again."

Sherlock frowns. "But that one time was—"

"Magnificent, I know, but—"

Sherlock reaches for John's belt and undoes it anyway. John presses his head into Sherlock's cheek and looks down to watch.

"It's…" he gasps when Sherlock's somehow warm hand wraps around his still-growing erection. "It's this park, isn't it?" John chuckles. "The park gets you hot."

"You get me hot."

"Post-case highs get you hot," John corrects. He sighs dramatically when Sherlock licks his fingers to make John's cock wet.

"Can I suck you off?" Sherlock asks, still stroking John. "Here, in the park?"

John bites his lip. "I…" He wants to deny Sherlock, he really does, but Sherlock's fingers rubbing over his erection is just too much.

Sherlock ducks his head to capture John's lips with his own. He licks at John's tongue, then sucks it into his mouth to relay to John his oral desire.

"Ok, ok," John mutters, pulling away for breath. "Yes, Sherlock…"

Sherlock licks his lips once, then drops to his knees and gets John fully out of his jeans. John looks around to make sure nobody is coming, then he grips Sherlock's hair and holds on tight.

And Sherlock makes it good. His tongue swirls around the head, he sucks so hard his cheeks hallow, his head bobs up and down, and he swallows John's cock with a soft moan from the back of his throat.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, oh god, Sherlock," John sighs, pumping his hips erratically. He thrusts fast into Sherlock's mouth, then slows down when he feels his orgasm approaching.

Sherlock pulls off with a pop the third time John stops his orgasm. He wraps a hand around the base of John's cock and licks at the pre-come pooling at the head.

John can't see Sherlock nearly at all, so he can't see Sherlock's hips rocking against his other hand. He can't see Sherlock stroking himself through his trousers. He can't see Sherlock's cock swelling harder than ever each time he thrusts against Sherlock's face.

Sherlock squeezes his balls and takes John deep again.

"Please, John," he sighs when he pulls off again. "Please, come…"

John cups Sherlock's jaw as Sherlock sucks John all the way in again, this time making himself come in his pants.

He groans around John's cock, the sensation feeling more than fantastic to John. He comes with a deep grunt, coating Sherlock's lips with white.

Sherlock licks his lips and stands, his legs wobbly from orgasm.

"Did you come?" John asks, reaching for Sherlock's trousers.

Sherlock grabs his wrist and nods. "I did."

John grins. "This park does get you hot."

Sherlock smiles back. "Shut up. It's you."

John reaches up and pulls Sherlock down for a kiss.

After their long, sweet kiss, they finally move to exit the park.

"That _was _amazing," John mutters as they grasp hands and head for home.

"It usually is."

"Even though we were _outside_."

"Nobody saw. Nobody else is even in this park."

As they're about to exit the gates of the park, the patrolling officer nods at them. "Evening, gentlemen," she says, glancing south on both of their bodies. "Very good evening."

John's eyes grow wide and he yanks on Sherlock's arm to move faster. "She heard us!"

"Yes, and it's evident that she thoroughly enjoyed it, too."

John rubs a hand over his face. "We're _never _doing that again."

Of course, he's wrong about that. He usually is.


	20. Day 20: My Own Kink

**Day 20: My Own Kink (Dirty Talk/Phone Sex/Foreign Language)**

* * *

"So, what are you doing?" John asks after their greeting. They're new at this, this calling just to chat in the middle of the day, and it's not really a good plan for the boyfriend of a man who is very horrible at small talk.

"Lying on the sofa," Sherlock replies. "What are you doing?"

John sighs. "Filing some paperwork."

"When is your next patient?"

"Half an hour. I should be eating lunch, but…"

"But?"

"But I'd rather talk to you."

Sherlock smiles. He's pretty sure that no matter how deep in their relationship they are, when he's the 'you' John is referring to, he'll smile.

"Have you had lunch?"

"No," Sherlock says. "Too busy."

"With? Did you get a case?"

"No," Sherlock painfully sighs. "I've been…thinking."

"About? A new experiment?"

"No…" Sherlock grins to himself. "About you?"

"Oh?" John replies, not noticing Sherlock's tone. "What about me?"

"Oh…about…last night."

"Oh?" John wonders. He pauses, realizing what Sherlock's playing at. "I know what you're playing at, mister, and it won't work. I'm busy."

"Obviously not too busy, you're on the phone with me."

"Well, too busy to think about…last night."

Sherlock licks his lips, tasting John's skin from last night. "Last night was good."

"Mmm," John agrees.

Sherlock can hear the scrape of his pen against the paper. He wants to badly to distract John, to make John flustered and even annoyed. He likes doing that, and he loves using his words to do so.

"I can't stop thinking about your cock in me, John."

Sherlock hears the pen scrape roughly now, and John sighs in frustration.

"I'll have to redo this page, thanks."

"Mmm," Sherlock sounds. "Sod it. Leave it and come home."

"I can't just leave it, Sherlock. I've got work to do. I have a patient soon."

"In twenty five minutes. Do you know what you could do in twenty five minutes?"

"Make a sandwich? Have a nice cuppa? Heck, I could even—"

"You could keep me on edge and eventually make me come with your tongue."

John chokes on his own spit. Once he catches his breath, he groans. "Sherlock."

"Just wiggle that squirmy thing right on up into my—"

"Stop, stop!"

Sherlock chuckles. "What's the matter, John?"

"You're…you can't…"

"I can. And I'll keep going unless you hang up."

He pauses, expecting John to hang up, but John doesn't. John just breaths shallowly into the phone, and Sherlock takes that as permission to go on.

"I think I'd quite like you to suck me off, John."

John gasps, sounding surprised.

"You haven't sucked me off in a few weeks. I'd like to push you down onto your knees and thrust into your mouth as you squeeze my arse."

John groans, this time a pleased sound.

"Though, maybe I'd want to be lying down for that, so I could trap your head between my thighs and pull your hair as I push your head down to swallow me whole."

John's breathing quickens.

"I probably wouldn't want you to make me come, though. I'd probably want to pull you up onto my lap so I could get my cock in you."

John makes a pleased high pitched sound.

"I'd slam up into you as hard as I could, holding you above me so I could control your body."

"Oh, Sherlock," John sighs.

"That's right John," Sherlock says, shoving his pajama pants down his hips so he can get a hand around his aching prick. "You'd say my name over and over again until I turned you over to get you on all fours. I do love taking you like that John, being able to see the expanse of your back flexing beneath me. And the angle is good for you, isn't it, John?"

John practically squeals an agreement.

"Are you touching yourself, John?" Sherlock asks, then licks his palm.

"Yes, oh god, yes, Sherlock…"

"Imagine me sucking it."

John moans.

"Imagine me under your desk right now, my head between your legs, my tongue teasing your slit, making you moan as quietly as you can."

John stops making any noise at all, and Sherlock knows it's because John himself thinks he'd be too embarrassingly loud.

"I'd grab your sac and play with your balls in my palm. Do you think I could fit your whole cock and balls in my mouth at once?"

With that, John comes, Sherlock can tell by the strained groan he lets out from the back of his throat. It makes Sherlock come, his orgasm more intense than he expected without John even in the same building.

"Ooooh my god, Sherlock…" John sighs. "Why do you do this to me?"

"Because you let me."

John laughs. "I don't enjoy it."

"It sounded very much like you enjoyed it."

"It's your bloody voice," John says. "It's sinful."

"Oh?" Sherlock purrs. "Next time I'll seduce you in a different language."

"I don't think that'll make a—"

"Je parie que je pourrais vous faire venir en parlant français."

John breathing stutters. "Holy shit."

Sherlock chuckles. "I told you."

"Alright. Save that for another day. I've got to go."

"You still have eighteen minutes before your next patient!"

"I know, but I'm starving now! You take a lot out of me!"

"Fine," Sherlock whines. "Hurry home."

"I will."

"I love you."

"I love _you_."

Sherlock smiles widely. "Goodbye."

"Bye, love."

Sherlock hangs up his phone and tucks himself back into his pants, then gets up to take a shower and think of things to say to John in French.

* * *

**_A/N: Language is a kink of mine, for some reason. Not even sexually, I don't think, I just love the way other languages sound. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!_**

**_Translation: _****"Je parie que je pourrais vous faire venir en parlant français" – **_"I bet I could make you come by speaking French."_


	21. Day 21: Shower Sex

**_Day 21: Shower Sex (Not technically shower sex, since one other chapter already featured shower sex. Also featuring rimming.)_**

* * *

John likes to watch Sherlock shower. Since the shower curtain is white, he can see Sherlock's silhouette perfectly. That lean body even looks toned in the shadow, he can see perfectly every curve of his tall love. He watches shamelessly as he brushes his teeth.

"How long until that dinner?" Sherlock calls over the spray.

John spits in the sink. "Just over an hour. But we've got to be there early."

"Why?"

"I don't know," John says. "I was just told to be there early."

John watches as Sherlock steps back under the spray, letting the water sweep away the soap he'd just lathered with.

John's getting more worked up than he should be. He told Sherlock they needed to take separate showers, since they really are in a hurry, and because of the weekend they've had.

In the past two days, from Saturday morning when they woke up and Sunday up until now, they've had sex five times. Three times yesterday and only twice today, and John's afraid they're on their way to number three today.

Sherlock turns in the shower, now his perfect profile visible in the curtain. John nearly chokes when Sherlock turns, accidentally revealing his erection.

John doesn't notice he's sucking on his toothbrush when Sherlock slides a hand over that hard thing between his legs, giving himself a few healthy tugs before he reaches to shut the shower off.

But he doesn't turn the shower off. Instead, he turns the hot water on all the way and steps out, leaving the curtain open to let the room fill with warm steam.

John rinses his mouth and puts his toothbrush away.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

Sherlock lifts an eyebrow. "I believe the answer is quite clear."  
He wraps a hand around his cock again and squeezes, letting clear fluid leak from the tip.

John licks his lips, then steps to Sherlock.

Sherlock goes to John quickly, pushing John back against the sink. He kisses John deeply while reaching behind to grab John's bum.

Sherlock pulls his lips away from John's and licks his neck as he runs a finger down the seam of John's arse.

"I bet you're still ready from earlier," Sherlock whispers. "Are you, John?" He easily slips a finger into John's hole.

John's breathing stutters. "Go easy on me, love," he whispers. "Last time, you were-"

"I'll be gentle, I promise," Sherlock breathes in John's ear, then quickly spins John around.

Without any warning, Sherlock drops to his knees to slick John up with his tongue. John arches into the wetness and groans at the ceiling, the sound being drowned out by the shower.

Finally, John's ready, so Sherlock stands again and slicks himself up with spit. He lines up and sinks in, pushing John hard against the sink.

He presses his entire wet front against John's back, biting the top of John's ear and sighing.

"So good..." Sherlock whispers.

John throws his head back to rest against Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock licks at his jaw and the side of John's neck, barely pulling his cock out to thrust back in.

He gets a slow and steady rhythm going, biting at every inch of John's skin that he can reach. John moans loudly with each thrust of Sherlock's hips, biting his lip to keep quiet even though he doesn't need to be.

After long minutes of leisurely pumping his cock in and out of John, he stands up straight and pulls his upper body back to not be touching John. He grips John's shoulders tight and looks down at his cock as he slowly pulls all the way out. He spits in his hand to slick himself up some more, then pushes his erection back into John as hard as he thinks is safe.

John's head drops forward and he arches his back, pushing his bum out more for Sherlock to easily hit his prostate. He nearly shouts his appreciation with each reentry, Sherlock's cock hitting him perfectly each time.

"John, look at me," Sherlock pants.

John lifts his head and turns to look at Sherlock.

"No," Sherlock groans. "In the mirror."

John wipes a hand to clear the moisture on the mirror and catches Sherlock's eyes with his own. Sherlock stares at him darkly as he bites his lip and thrusts harder, and John grips his cock with one hand.

John comes not even a minute later, straining to keep his eyes fixed on Sherlock as he cries out. Sherlock follows close behind, watching John through heavy-lidded eyes.

Sherlock pulls out and steps back over to the shower, cleaning up with a cloth from the tub. He shuts the shower off, then returns to John while grabbing his towel.

"Why'd you leave the shower on?"

"I didn't want to get cold," Sherlock answers. "Doesn't do well for my performance if I get too cold."

John laughs and pulls Sherlock close. "I'm certainly glad there wasn't anything wrong with your performance."

Sherlock smiles and kisses John deeply.


	22. Day 22: On a Desk

**_Day 22: On a Desk (plus cross-dressing kink, really. And there will be a sequel to this chapter.)_**

* * *

There really isn't ever much 'need-you-now' sex in 221B. Rarely is there an erection so spontaneous that all tasks are forgotten until both men are sated and happy.

But there is one specific thing that gets John in the mood faster than Sherlock can explain what it is he's doing; dressing up.

John's not sure why. Never in his wildest dream would he think red lip stick, shaved legs, or freakin' panties on a man would be sexy, but that was all before he met Sherlock; before he set eyes on those lips, those legs, that arse.

He's in the door two seconds before he looks up to see Sherlock wearing nothing but a pair of frilly purple panties. They wrap around his hips perfectly, settling just below the v of his abs, and they're just tight enough around his crotch that there's already a definite bulge.

John's mouth hangs open. "Sher..."

Sherlock grins, then turns around to type something on his laptop. "Just the reaction I was expecting."

John's eyes are glued to his bum, the tight material barely stretching over flesh. "This was for-"

"A slight experiment, yes. Don't worry, nothing will harm you. As a matter of fact, I-"

John's as silent as a mouse as he steps behind Sherlock, now missing his coat and shoes. He wraps his arms around Sherlock and presses his erection against Sherlock's arse.

"John..." Sherlock sighs, pressing into John's lips on his back.

"Need you..." John says, palming Sherlock's bum. "Now..."

John quickly turns Sherlock around and pushes him to sit on the desk. He delicately steps around to move Sherlock's laptop, then simply shoves everything else out of the way. Papers fly everywhere, Sherlock's mobile flings to the ground, and even a mug shatters on the floor.

"John!" Sherlock cries in shock.

John doesn't care. How could he when those ungodly long legs wrap around his waist, so high that Sherlock's knees are tight against his ribs, and pull him close?

He rubs up Sherlock's thighs and kisses Sherlock deeply, then tugs at the panties until Sherlock lifts his hips.

There's lube in a desk drawer, thank god. John doesn't want to disconnect from Sherlock; he doesn't even push Sherlock onto his back. He holds Sherlock as close as possible as he stretches Sherlock thoroughly, all the while Sherlock kisses him fiercely.

They're finally ready, so John just unzips his jeans and slides in to Sherlock's body. Sherlock leans back on his hands and John holds his hips, pounding into him evenly.

John slams into Sherlock hard at one point, then stays still as he lifts Sherlock and rotates Sherlock's hips for him. Sherlock throws his head back, nearly shouting because the head of John's cock is pressing perfectly against his prostate. John grips him tight, his fingernails digging into Sherlock's skin.

John puts Sherlock down again and begins to thrust, this time Sherlock's arms fall below him and he falls flat against the desk. John spreads Sherlock's legs wide, pushing Sherlock's knees towards his chest.

John notices Sherlock's panties are stuck around his ankle, and the reminder of Sherlock's arse in the tight little garment makes John's orgasm rip through his unexpectedly. Sherlock reaches down to stroke his cock while John is pulsing inside him, and he comes just as quickly as John did.

John slumps and pulls out, adjusting himself back into his pants. Sherlock woozily sits up, kicking off the panties instead of putting them back on.

"What brought this on, then?" John asks, "Why'd you buy these?"

"Remember the sex shop case?"

John snorts a laugh. "What's that got to do with the panties?"

Sherlock grins. "She paid me in coupons."

John laughs louder. "Oh, that's great. Can't pay any bills from this case but at least you've got those delightful little things."

"You won't be complaining when you see what else I bought."

John's laughter dies down and he eyes Sherlock. "What is it?"

"You'll see," Sherlock replies, standing and moving towards the bathroom.

"Sherlock?" John calls, following him. "What else did you buy?!"


	23. Day 23: Trying a New Position

**Day 23: Trying a New Position**

* * *

John opens his eyes to see the beautiful marble acreage of Sherlock's hip. John instantly grins, feeling an intense rush of happiness that Sherlock is there when he wakes up. He leans over and kisses Sherlock's hip, and feels Sherlock's big hand on his head.

"John," Sherlock says. "I have an idea."

John digs his nose into Sherlock's hip. "What's your idea, love?"

Sherlock runs his fingers through John's hair again and again. "I want to try a new sex position."

John chuckles. "To this idea, I am not opposed."

"I've been looking at a few different positions, but the positions are from a women's magazine website. They're for heterosexual couples. Do you still think we could still do them?"

John sits up with a strangled sigh, stretching as he settles next to Sherlock. "Let me take a look."

Sherlock turns his laptop so John can see, pulling up the first tab. "Alright here's one that looks fun. I sit on a chair, or the sofa, I guess, and you sit on top of me, your knees bent against my underarms and your back against my thighs. What do you think?"

"Hmm," John sounds. "So…who would thrust?"

"I guess if I had enough leverage I could, but since your feet would be planted on the sofa, you'd have enough leverage to thrust, as well. And your hands are supposed to be flat on the floor, so you could lift yourself with your arms, too."

"Huh," John mutters. "What about if I was on bottom?"

"I think it'd be a bit weird because I'm so much bigger than you. But I guess we could try it either way."

"Alright. What's next?"

Sherlock opens up the next tab and explains the next position to John. "This one, I'd lay flat on the ground and put my arms out, and apparently it matters if I don't touch you. You get on top of me, sitting back so that your hands are on my thighs. And your legs extended so your feet are by my rubs."

"Ok," John says. "That one could be fun, I think."

"Yeah? But I don't understand why my arms would need to be extended on the floor."

"Well, just a feeling thing. The point is that I'd be pretty much controlling your dick."

"Mmm," Sherlock sounds. "That seems nice."

John kisses his shoulder. "Next?"

"This one seems tricky. You'd be on your back, half on your side, with one leg extended on the floor and the other over my shoulder, while I lift my leg over your leg on the bed, and, uhm, I guess then my cock would be as deep in you as possible."

"That…" John examines the illustration on the page. "In theory that seems great, but I don't think my leg will bend that way, love."

"Ok, I'll be on bottom, then."

"Feeling your arse against my thigh would be nice, " John says, kissing Sherlock's shoulder again.

Sherlock nods. "There is one more," he says, opening the last tab. "I sit up cross-legged on the bed and you sit in my lap, your legs around my waist."

"That looks nice," John says. "I'd quite like to be in you like that."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. As a matter of fact, we don't even need to be in each other for that position."

"No?"

John shoves his blanket aside and adjusts to sit cross-legged. "Come here."

Sherlock looks down at John's lap, licking his lips to the sight of an already erect cock in John's lap, then sets his laptop on the floor and straddles John's thighs.

John palms Sherlock's growing erection, rubbing until Sherlock's fully hard. "See?" John asks.

"Oh, yeah," Sherlock sighs, kissing John deeply.

In the position, Sherlock easily thrusts into John's fist and scratches at John's shoulders. John loves it; seeing Sherlock fall apart is the greatest sight.

As soon as Sherlock comes a minute later, he reaches down to grab John's cock. He strokes John as he plunders John's mouth, moaning with each pass over John's shaft.

John comes shortly after, slumping against the headboard as Sherlock unhands him.

"See?" John pants, "That was good."

"Mhm," Sherlock agrees, wrapping his arms around John's neck and kissing him again. "But I'd still like to try the other positions."

John smiles. "I'm going to buy you a sex position daily calendar."

"They make those?!" Sherlock cries.

John laughs, then kisses Sherlock again, making a mental note to _definitely_ pick up one of those calendars.


	24. Day 24: Shy

**Day 24: Shy (plus, filming their sex.)**

* * *

Sherlock will pretty much get on his knees anywhere; he's gotten on all fours in more places than he can count, he's sucked John off in more places than he's proud to admit.

They've been in a sexual relationship for just over six months and in those six months they've had sex in every way and, as stated, in a vast amount of places. So it's shocking when they find the first thing they're not very keen on doing.

"You want to…" Sherlock stares at the object in John's hand as if it's going to burst into flames at any second. "You want to tape us?"

John nods. "Yeah, I mean…we can delete it afterwards, I just want to see."

Sherlock takes the thin camera out of John's hand. "Why?"

"Because…" John sits next to Sherlock. "I don't know. I think you'd be sexy to watch on camera. Don't you think we'd be sexy to watch?"

Sherlock shrugs. "I don't know, John."

"Alright," John concedes. "We don't have to. It was just an idea."

He moves to stand, but Sherlock stops him.

"If we do this," Sherlock asks, "How would we do it?"

John shrugs. "I could take you or you could take me."

"I meant," Sherlock bites his lip. "How would we…where would we put the…"

"Oh," John sighs. "Who would hold the camera? Uhm…well, I was thinking we could set it up somewhere so we don't have to move it. Or we could actually take it to the bed and trade off holding it."

Sherlock chews on a nail.

"We don't have to," John repeats. "But, if you want to, don't think about it, ok? Just relax."

Three days later, Sherlock convinces himself that it'd be alright to record them having sex. He turns the camera on as he reclines against the pillows and spreads his thighs.

"You're sure about this?" he asks as John opens the lube bottle.

"I'm sure," John says, confidently. "Are you?"

Sherlock adjusts the camera clarity and nods. "Go ahead."

He points the camera down as John reaches between his legs, and he watches through the camera screen as John pushes a finger into his hole.

Sherlock clamps his legs shut. "Nope."

John looks up at his face, noting the red blush to Sherlock's cheeks. "Ok. Don't record this part."

Sherlock furrows his brows and nods, then sets the camera down next to them. John kisses his knees and pushes his legs apart again.

Once Sherlock's ready, John picks up the camera again.

"Ready?" he asks, pointing the camera down as he lines up against Sherlock's hole.

Sherlock hesitantly nods. "Sure, yeah."

John frowns. "Ok, I'm not going to record it."

"No, no," Sherlock says, "Go ahead."

John leans down and kisses Sherlock deeply. "Just relax," he whispers. "It's for our eyes only, I promise. I will delete it as soon as we watch it. I just want to see."

"Why, John? Why would you want to watch us having sex?"

"Because I'm a man. And you're a really sexy man. And I just want to see it."

"You really think it'd be that sexy?"

"Yes," John says. "I think that once you see how sexy it is, you won't want to delete it."

"Hmm," Sherlock sighs. "I guess…if nobody else is going to see it."

"Nobody will."

"I just…it will feel weird with a camera that close to my arse hole."

John laughs and kisses Sherlock. "You hold it then. You control the view."

Sherlock bites his lip. "Alright," he says, taking the camera from John. "Go ahead."

John sits up on his heels again, then pushes in while Sherlock turns the camera on.

"Mmm," Sherlock sighs.

John takes Sherlock's knees and pushes them up towards his chest. "Good, babe?"

Sherlock nods, pointing the camera down to where they're finally connected. "When you're ready."

John nods. He pulls out a tiny bit, then thrusts back in. He groans loudly.

"That's…" Sherlock says. He groans. "Oh, that is a bit sexy."

John grins. Sherlock points the camera at his face.

"I told you," John says.

Sherlock points the camera down again, letting it focus on John's cock entering his body.

"Touch my cock," Sherlock demands after a few forceful thrusts.

John reaches down and wraps a hand around Sherlock's leaking prick, and Sherlock focuses the camera on John's hand.

"You didn't want to film us at all," John says, "Now you're only filming your own cock."

Sherlock chuckles, then zooms out to see John's cock again.

"You are sexy, John," Sherlock says, one hand joining John's on his cock.

"Am I?" John asks.

"Very sexy," Sherlock says, letting the camera pan up John's body to his face. "I want to change positions."

John slowly stops thrusting and pulls out. "Ok?"

Sherlock sits up and pushes John so he's laying flat on the bed, then straddles John and sinks down on his cock.

"Oh, god, Sherlock!" John cries, reaching up and toying with one of his nipples.

Sherlock moans and begins to bounce on John's cock, handing the camera over.

John eagerly films everything, and Sherlock's embarrassment disappears. He plants his hands on John's chest and thrusts forcefully, pulling happy moans from John's throat and crying out himself.

John eventually holds his arm out so his hand is about even with their hips, so the camera sees Sherlock humping wildly on top of him. He grabs Sherlock's hard cock and strokes in time with Sherlock's thrusts, and in short minutes, Sherlock sits up and arches as he comes all over John's chest. John pushes up hard into Sherlock as Sherlock clenches around him, coming with a loud shout.

Sherlock falls over onto the bed and lays next to John. John catches his breath and finally holds up the camera.

"Want to watch?"

The first half of the video is uneventful; Sherlock doesn't care for his own camera-man skills. However, the half of the film that John captured? Well, even Sherlock's surprised at the sudden rock-hard tension between his legs.

He licks his lips as he watches himself fucking John. "Uhm…"

John looks over at him. "What'd'ya think?"

Sherlock looks at John. "Is it alright if I admit that it's…it's sexy?"

John laughs. "It's ten times more sexy if you admit it's sexy."

Sherlock smiles.

After the second go, and the second film, they end up watching the film nearly every day for the next two weeks. That is, until they make another film and start the process all over again with that one.


	25. Day 25: With Toys

**Day 25: With Toys ****_(sequel to Day 22)_**

* * *

"So, show me what else you bought at that shop."

"Well," Sherlock replies, wiggling to the side of the bed to reach under. "_Technically, _I didn't buy this. I had a coupon. A few coupons, actually."

"What th—" John climbs over to lay next to Sherlock, his head hanging off the side of the bed. "What the hell did you buy?"

"Well, I got more lube," Sherlock pulls three tubes from under the bed. "Since you threw away three and practically ate the other three."

"At least I used them on you," John argues, examining the new tubes.

"And I bought those underwear you so eagerly devoured yesterday," Sherlock adds.

"Mmm," John moans, recalling the beautiful purple panties hugging Sherlock's crotch. "We definitely need to invest in more pairs."

Sherlock smiles. "Ah-ha!" he cries. "Here we go."

John looks under the bed again. "What else have you got down there? Why was this so difficult to find?"

"I have many shoe boxes under here, John. I put what I bought in a shoe box."

Sherlock pulls the shoe box up and turns onto his back, still hanging his head off the side of the bed. John follows, enjoying the look of Sherlock's hair falling to the floor.

"So," Sherlock announces. "First, I found this."

He pulls out a blue cock ring with a battery pack hooked to it.

"Oooh," John sounds, taking it from Sherlock. He presses a button on the battery pack and it starts to vibrate. "Oooh," John sighs, sounding very interested.

Sherlock smiles. "And then I found these."

The second thing he pulls out is a string of anal beads.

John's eyes grow wide. "Wow."

Sherlock looks at him. "Problem?"

John takes the string and examines it. "Just not anything I thought you'd be interested in."

"Why not? The store salesman said they feel good. He even offered to—" Sherlock abruptly stops.

"To…what?"

"Nothing."

John eyes him. "Remind me not to let you go back to this store alone."

Sherlock pulls out the last thing in the box to distract John. "And I got this!"

John eagerly takes the quite large silicon vibrator from Sherlock. "So," he wonders, "Where do we start?"

Sherlock starts by stretching John with the new sweet-smelling lube. He sucks the head of John's cock while he drives his fingers in and out, driving John mad.

"Just come up here," John begs, pulling at Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock licks the precome pooling on John's belly. "Not yet."

John whines, and Sherlock pulls his fingers out after not long of preparation.

"I want to do the beads," Sherlock says.

John nods. "Fuck me after."

"Oh," Sherlock grins. "I plan to."

Sherlock gently pushes the beads into John one by one until only the finger handle is out of John. He licks his lips and stares at where John's body is eagerly swallowing the toy.

"Ready?" he asks, blinking his gaze up to John's face.

"Come here," John says, pulling at Sherlock's arm until Sherlock sits up and shifts to John's side. John grabs his cock and strokes lightly. "Go ahead."

Sherlock bites his lip and twists the beads inside John, then pulls the first bead out.

John moans. "Oh, that felt great," he sighs, still stroking Sherlock.

"Hang on," Sherlock says, grabbing the cock ring. He fastens it on himself and pulls the second bead out of John.

John moans again. "Yeah, keep going."

Sherlock pulls the next three beads out, John arching off the bed and stroking Sherlock faster. Experimentally, John turns the ring on and Sherlock cries out, yanking another bead out of John without warning.

John turns the ring off and Sherlock catches his breath. "Good?" he asks.

Sherlock eagerly nods, catching his breath. "Bloody amazing. Are you ready for the last few?"

John nods.

Sherlock leans over and takes John's cock in his mouth, then pulls the beads out of John at a healthy speed. John groans and clutches at Sherlock's hair, coming deep down Sherlock's throat with another loud moan.

"Oh god, Sherlock!" John cries.

Sherlock gets back between John's thighs, then slowly pushes his cock in. John's legs wrap around him, then John reaches down to flick the ring back on again.

Sherlock falls over John, digging his fingers into John's hair and thrusting wildly. The sensation from John's body and the ring is almost too much, but he comes not even a minute after entering John.

Sherlock quickly gets the ring off, then falls back over John. "Oh my god," he sighs against John's neck.

"Good?"

"Just wait until you feel it."

John strokes up his back. "We've still got to use the other thing."

Sherlock smiles; John feels it against his skin.

"Next time," Sherlock says. "You can watch me fuck myself with it while I suck you off."

John's nails dig into Sherlock's back. "How many more coupons do you have?"

"A few. Why?"

"Did they have a good selection of vibrators?"

Sherlock chuckles. "Well…"


	26. Day 26: Boring Sex

**Day 26: Boring Sex**

* * *

"It's been the longest day ever," John muses as he and Sherlock get ready for bed.

Sherlock takes the floss from him. "That case was far too tedious. I can't believe Lestrade would even consider giving me something like that, much less actually hand-deliver it to me."

John nods in agreement, his mouth currently too full of fingers.

"Tired?" Sherlock asks between floss adjustments.

John shakes his head. "Not really," he says, throwing away the floss and getting the mouth wash out of the cabinet.

"Want to have sex?" Sherlock nonchalantly asks.

John shrugs, sloshing the liquid around his mouth. He spits seconds later and says, "We can. What do you want to do?"

Sherlock shrugs back. "I'd settle for just a little handjob."

John nods. "That can be arranged, my love."

Sherlock smiles, taking the mouth wash and using it for himself.

Minutes later, they're stretched out in bed. They kiss slowly, taking the time to get in the mood. Tongues pass slowly over lips and teeth; hands and fingertips ghost over the bare skin of hips, thighs, and one detective-y bum.

Sherlock breathes out a low chuckle when John pinches just under his left buttock, a place he's learned recently to be very ticklish. He pulls his mouth away with a smack.

"John!"

John grins and dives in for another kiss, his hand sliding up Sherlock's side to his underarm. He digs his fingers into Sherlock's armpit, and Sherlock laughs and rolls onto his back.

John climbs on top of him, pinning Sherlock to the bed. Sherlock squirms beneath him, trying to shove him off, but all he's doing is mashing his cock against John's. John tries to maintain his position, but his eyes clench shut and his hands let go of Sherlock's.

Sherlock grabs John's bum and continues to rotate his hips up, his cock grinding against John's. "This is nice," Sherlock says.

"Mhm," John agrees, dipping his head into Sherlock's neck and licking the skin he can reach.

Sherlock stretches to give John more neck, pumping his hips faster.

"I'm going to come already," Sherlock whispers.

John kisses his cheek, then lips. He thrusts his tongue in and out of Sherlock's mouth, and Sherlock comes a second later. John's orgasm approaches as soon as he sees Sherlock fall apart.

John sighs, reaching over for the tissues on the nightstand. He sits up to clean Sherlock up, then leans over to kiss Sherlock's stomach.

"That was good," John says, tossing the used tissues onto the floor and falling over onto his side of the bed. "Thanks, babe."

Sherlock chuckles. "Did you just thank me for sex?"

"Oh," John mutters, beginning to laugh. "I guess I did."

Sherlock turns onto his side and kisses John's head.

"Tomorrow night," he says, "I'll rock your world."

"_'Rock my world'_?" John laughs again. "No more telly for you."

Sherlock smiles. "Deal."


	27. Day 27: Rough, Biting, Scratching

**_A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, I believe. _****StarMaya ****_messaged me about a kind of prompt and I really don't think this is what you wanted. I can try again in the last three days. Sorry, love. _**

* * *

**Day 27: Rough, Biting, Scratching (plus rimming)**

* * *

"I was barely even choked!"

"You _stopped breathing, _Sherlock Holmes. Do you understand that? There was no oxygen exiting or entering your body. You _died._"

"For about a second!"

"A second too long!"

Sherlock snorts.

They enter the flat and Sherlock gets his coat and scarf off, John follows.

"I can't believe you can be so stupid sometimes, Sherlock. I swear to god, you're the dumbest man I know."

Sherlock frowns. "Because saving your life and the lives of three others was a bad decision."

John rolls his eyes. "Playing that card, are we?"

Sherlock follows John to the kitchen. "I didn't even feel it anyway."

John snaps, his anger growing as soon as Sherlock even starts that sentence. He turns around and wraps a loose hand around Sherlock's neck, in the same motion shoving Sherlock against the cabinet. He's not holding Sherlock hard, but John kind of does want to hurt him.

Sherlock just feels immediate stirring in his pants. He hooks his hands in John's, doesn't try to pry John away, and feels his cock get harder when John squeezes.

"Feel it now, Sherlock?" John hisses, his face next to Sherlock's.

"Actually…" the bruising around Sherlock's neck begins to irritate. "Yeah, that—"

John squeezes harder. "Didn't fucking hurt, did it?"

"Well, now it—"

John lets him go. He glances down, noting the very visible bulge in Sherlock's jeans, and senses the shift in the evening. He steps right in front of Sherlock and without warning rips Sherlock's shirt apart.

Sherlock watches, pupils blown wide. "John…"

John doesn't stop, not that Sherlock told him to, he just places both palms against Sherlock's chest, then makes his hand into a claw and scratches down Sherlock's chest.

Vicious red marks appear in that pale plateau as Sherlock throws his head back against the cabinet and moans.

"That hurt, Sherlock?"

"God, _yes_."

John takes advantage of Sherlock's head thrown back by reaching up and sinking his teeth in just above one of the bruises.

Sherlock's hands fly up, one to the back of John's head and one to John's bum.

John lets Sherlock hold him there; he continues to bite every bit of Sherlock's neck. When he starts south, he bites Sherlock's collar bone so hard he draws blood.

He finally pulls back to get a look at Sherlock. His skin is red and covered in bite marks, along with his torso covered in nail tracks.

John's fingertips trail down to Sherlock's belt, where he grabs and yanks Sherlock from against the cabinet. He turns Sherlock so his back is to their bedroom, then John pushes him so hard he stumbles backwards. Sherlock catches himself before he falls, then slowly steps back towards their bedroom.

John peels his clothes off as they make their way to the bedroom. His shirt falls off his shoulders, his jeans drop to the ground with a soft thud. All that's left are his pants, which are actually Sherlock's (accidentally grabbed the wrong pair), so they're abnormally tight. More so around his erection.

Sherlock licks his lips as he moves to drop his trousers, but John stops him. He quickly turns Sherlock around and pushes Sherlock to his knees in front of the bed, so that Sherlock's upper body can be pushed flat against the bed.

John digs his fingernails into Sherlock's shoulder blades and scratches down, all the way to the waistband of his jeans.

Sherlock moans loudly and arches towards John's touch.

John spreads himself over Sherlock's back. "Like this?" he asks, biting Sherlock's ear.

"God, yes…" Sherlock moans again.

John reaches around and unbuckles Sherlock's jeans, then shoves his trousers down to his thighs.

"No pants," John observes, biting down Sherlock's back, sucking red marks all over. He gets down to Sherlock's arse and bites his way to the overly delectable center.

John dives right in, spreading Sherlock and licking at his hole. Sherlock tastes clean, for he had just showered before the surprisingly short case and almost dying.

Sherlock moans and thrusts his hips back against John, pressing his bum more against John's mouth. John bites at his cheeks, then shoves his tongue back into Sherlock's hole without warning.

His fingers join soon, and in time Sherlock's stretched enough to take his cock. He spits in his hand over and over until he's lathered enough, then takes hold of Sherlock's hips and slowly presses his cock in.

John lays over Sherlock again. "Alright?" he asks in Sherlock's ear.

"Perfect," Sherlock sighs, taking deep breaths.

"Ready?" John whispers.

Sherlock nods, grabbing the bed sheets for leverage.

John pulls out a little bit, then shoves back in at the same time he sinks his teeth in to Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock cries out and shoves his hips back onto John's cock, and John continues to thrust evenly.

"Feel that, Sherlock?"

"Yes, John!"

"You felt it when you almost fucking died earlier, you arse."

Sherlock whimpers beneath him. "Touch my cock, please…"

John sits up and scratches at Sherlock's back again. "No," John says.

Sherlock buries his face in his arm and shouts into the bed.

When John feels his orgasm approaching, he pulls Sherlock's shoulders until Sherlock sits up, his back against John's chest. John wraps his arms around Sherlock and scratches down his chest and stomach, simultaneously biting at his shoulder and neck.

John latches his mouth into one specific spot on Sherlock's chest, and Sherlock's orgasm hits him unexpectedly. He comes against the bed, and John comes deep inside him while Sherlock is pulsing around his dick.

John pulls out while the last of his orgasm is fading. Weak spurts hit Sherlock's thigh, and John feels another pulse of pleasure.

He looks down at Sherlock, who had fallen back against the bed. His skin is all head, even where John accidentally dug his nails into his bum.

"God, baby," John says. "You ok?"

Sherlock sighs, almost in pleasure.

John leans over and kisses up the red marks. "Come on, up to the bed."

Sherlock climbs up and lays on the bed, wincing at the stinging on his back.

John pulls his jeans all the way off. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

"No. Good."

John goes to clean up, then returns to the bed with lotion. He rubs it all over Sherlock's stinging skin. "I love you. I'm sorry for getting so upset with you."

"I'm sorry for being dumb."

"You're not dumb. What you did was courageous."

"I almost lost you. I shouldn't have dragged you in, I shouldn't have—"

"Sshh," John whispers, pressing a finger against Sherlock's lips. "It's ok." He leans down and kisses Sherlock.

Sherlock happily kisses back. "Forgive me?"

"Of course. Do you forgive me?"

Sherlock reaches up and pulls John down against him. "Of course."

"I love you."

"I love you too, John."


	28. Day 28: Role Playing

**Day 28: Role Playing**

* * *

Sherlock pulls his fingers out of John and lines his cock up against John's hole. "Are you ready for me?"

John laughs. "Stop with that voice."

"What voice?" Sherlock asks, trying but failing to make his fake French accent more believable. All that happens is his tone comes out more high pitched.

"_That _voice, Sherlock!" John laughs.

Sherlock presses his cock in slowly. "_Zis_ voice?"

John laughs louder, not helping Sherlock's attempt to become one. "Now you sound Russian, Sherlock!"

"Who is this '_Sherlock_' you speak of?" Sherlock asks in a full Spanish accent. "I don't appreciate when you talk about other men we're in bed."

John laughs, his entire body clenching and pushing Sherlock _out. _"Stop!"

"You're the one who wanted to try role playing," Sherlock impatiently argues, this time a thick Australian accent escaping his mouth.

John throws his head back and laughs louder than he previously had been. He snaps his knees shut and wipes the tears forming in his eyes.

Sherlock furrow his brows. "Seriously John," he says in his own voice. "_You _said this would be fun. _You _said—"

"I know what I said!" John cries, still laughing. "But what I _meant _is that we could, you know, try out a scenario? Wear something out of the ordinary? And when I said you could speak French to me, I didn't mean sounding like the worst French person ever."

Sherlock huffs. "Well, I'm sorry that _I'm _the one attempting the stupid game of yours."

John sighs. "Well, perhaps stop or try something else."

Sherlock nods.

"Do you want to keep going?"

Sherlock points at his erection. "It's not just going to go away, no matter how long we sit around talking."

"Fine," John says. "Go ahead."

Sherlock slips a hand between John's thighs and grins. "Spread 'em, partner," he says in a really, really bad American southern accent.

"Oh my god!" John laughs.

Sherlock doesn't let up this time due to John's laughter. He slowly pushes into John until he's deep inside.

"Want to try something else?" John asks as Sherlock steadily gains a rhythm of thrusts.

Sherlock shrugs. "Why not?"

John grins. He closes his eyes clears his throat and pushes himself up so he's leaning on his elbows, and Sherlock hooks his elbows under John's knees so he's holding John up a bit.

John's grin disappears as he opens his eyes. "Better roger me good, soldier. There will be consequences if I'm not satisfied."

Sherlock actually shivers and stops thrusting. That voice, that tone, that stare John is giving him is enough to get his heart racing with want. Captain Watson is Sherlock's favorite role play, even if before this he's only seen it during cases.

"I didn't tell you to stop, Lieutenant. Either fuck me or get out of my bunk, I have no use for you otherwise."

Sherlock takes a deep breath, then slowly begins to thrust again.

"There's a good boy, Lieutenant. You like being a good boy?"

Sherlock nods and thrusts only a little bit faster.

John lets out a low moan. "I see you out there in the field. Always so eager to please when you're not being a little shit. So eager to please _me, _isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

Sherlock nods. "Yes, only you."

"Did I tell you to speak?"

Sherlock shakes his head, bites his lip, and thrusts harder.

John throws his head back and sighs. "There you go, Lieutenant. I knew you could deliver what I want."

"_John_…" Sherlock sighs.

John reaches up and forcefully grabs Sherlock's jaw. Sherlock's eyes fly open.

"What was that, Lieutenant?"

Sherlock's thrusting slows to a stop. "Captain," he corrects himself. "Captain Watson…I'm sorry—"

John pushes him back until his cock slips out, then he shoves Sherlock down onto the bed.

"I have half the mind to leave you here aching for me while I go find another disobedient twit to get me off. But you don't want me to do that, do you?"

"No, Captain. Please…"

"Why, Lieutenant? Do you feel like you own me?"

Sherlock shakes his head.

John straddles his hips and lines up on his cock. "I own you."

Sherlock nods and takes hold of John's hips, crying out as John sinks down.

"Spit in your hand," John orders.

Sherlock does it.

"Take my cock," John demands next.

Sherlock spreads his own spit along John's erection, then takes him in a comfortably tight fist.

John begins to thrust into Sherlock's fist, every bit of movement pulling Sherlock's cock in and out of his own arse.

"Oh my god!" Sherlock sighs, his head falling back against the bed.

"Look at me," John says.

Sherlock struggles to open his eyes, then hold his gaze on John.

"You're very compliant, Lieutenant, and I like that. But I think tomorrow night I'll find another to use."

"No…" Sherlock whimpers.

John abruptly stops. "No?"

"No, Captain, please…"

"And why are you giving me an order, Lieutenant?"

"Because…" Sherlock begins to stroke John's cock. "Because…I…"

"Why, Lieutenant?"

"Because…"

John pulls Sherlock up by the shoulders so they're pressed chest to chest. John wraps his arms around Sherlock's neck and begins to thrust into Sherlock's fist again.

"Tell me, Lieutenant."

Sherlock buries his face in John's neck and licks every inch of skin he can reach.

"Tell me."

"I love you," Sherlock whispers. "Because I love you."

John moans loudly. "You what?"

"I love you," Sherlock eagerly repeats.

John feels his orgasm approaching quickly and he knows Sherlock is about to burst. He places his hands on both sides of Sherlock's head and holds his still so they can look into each other's eyes. He thrusts hard and moans loudly, then begins to come on Sherlock's hand and stomach.

Sherlock cries out loudly and wraps his arms tight around John as he comes, whispering over and over his love for John.

They slowly regain their breath and let each other go, but John doesn't climb off Sherlock's lap.

"How was that?" John asks.

"Intense," Sherlock answers.

John smiles and kisses Sherlock's cheek, then lips.

"Can you wear the dogtags next time?"

John laughs. "As long as you try to keep up that French accent the entire time."

"You said it was dumb!"

"It is dumb! But it's so cute!"

Sherlock scowls. "I'm not cute."

"Sorry baby, you're always cute."

Sherlock just scowls at him.

John kisses his nose. "I love you too, by the way."

Sherlock shoves him off. "Gee, _thanks._"

John laughs and follows Sherlock off the bed and to the bathroom.


End file.
